by Julia Donner
Needing to erase the melancholy from her eyes, he tucked away the handkerchief and nuzzled her ear to tease. “Please, no more coloring your hair. I’ve always been partial to blondes.”
“You can say that? Now?”
He hooked his palm under the knee he’d hung over the back of the couch and carefully lowered it. The sweet glide of her flesh tingled against his bared hip as he settled her leg in a more comfortable position.
“I think we should tidy ourselves before your maid comes in.”
She lifted his spirits with a smug grin. “Smith will not be attending me tonight. I planned to waylay you. I thought you might stay with me tonight, but if you are not willing….”
Freddy abruptly levered up off the couch seat and fastened a top trouser button. She squeaked a peep of surprise when he scooped her up and headed for the bedroom. He set her down beside the bed and began working on her lacings.
After a moment, she said with a suspicious squint, “I am not sure that I am in any way pleased with your familiarity with women’s clothing.”
He leaned back to view her mood. An impish challenge brightened the green of her eyes. How could she know that her playful pout erased every rational thought in his head? When she pursed her mouth, the thrust of that plump, upper lip caused every drop of blood in his veins to turn molten and sink southward. He swiftly cupped her face in his palms and captured her delicious mouth, nipping then sucking on the tempting upper lip. When he paused for breath, her heavy-lidded eyes looked dazed.
Blinking, she whispered, “We are spending too much time on clothes. I will finish mine. Now I want to watch you remove yours. I have done a great deal of imagining what you look like without them.”
For a moment, he thought his legs would give out. The always prim and starchy Evangeline had a well-hidden passionate nature. Renewed passion surged, tightening every muscle and stealing his breath, when she impatiently gestured for him to start first.
Daring him with her eyes, she tugged at the gown he’d unlaced, struggling out of her shift, and kicking off her slippers. Sheer pink stockings tied up with pretty rosette ribbons got left on slender legs and fragile ankles. Desire roared through him when she scooted back on the coverlet and sprawled back against the pillows with no sign of modesty, open, waiting, so eager.
He sent up a prayer of thanks that he’d worn Hessians and not the usual tight boots. A button pinged on the floor when he tore off his shirt. Evangeline licked that upper lip he so loved as he got shed of everything and tossed it aside. His skin burned everywhere her fascinated gaze roamed. Her avid expression mirrored his intent. She lifted her arms to meet him. He sank onto chilled flesh, inhaling the scent that was Evangeline.
She whispered against his ear in a shaky voice, “You are so warm.”
“You’re shivering, poor darling.”
In a husky voice, she said, “Not from the cold.”
Chapter 27
Evangeline relished the exquisite feel of his weight. She ached from a fresh wave of wanting him again. What was wrong with her? Minutes before, she’d experienced the sharpest pleasure she’d ever known.
The display of him stripping out of his clothes, the way he stared at her with a wild light in his eyes made her wonder at her own avarice. Tight fitting clothes showed his lean figure to advantage, but hadn’t revealed the delineated muscle underneath. Edward had been pale and hairless, passive and tentative. Not this man. Although gentle, his touch was commanding and insistent.
The sight of black body hair came as a surprise, but evoked a dark curl of excitement, especially when she allowed her curiosity to follow the trail of hair lower. A flutter of apprehension twined through her limbs at the aggressive sight. She wasn’t sure how she had accommodated all of that, but she had, and shivered at the memory.
When he joined her on the bed, the hardness and bristle of him rubbing against her skin set off an inner fire. All she could think of was becoming a part of him again, to experience once more the way he’d claimed her body and ruled it in a way she never imagined. Once started, he didn’t ask or wait for permission. He took her like a starving man. He’d startled her when he lifted her leg over the couch, leaving her exposed and vulnerable, then pushed inside with an urgency that stopped her breath. It had been so long since she’d been bedded, and Grieves was nothing like Edward. Comparisons fled when his mouth latched onto her breast. He bit through the material of her bodice in a way that sent sharp streaks of pleasure into her womb.
The memory of what it had been like when he entered returned, the burning stretch of him inside, the shudder of his body. He took her with shivering urgency and a dark, deep groan of satisfaction as he thrust deep. The growling sound sent pleasure searing through every nerve and fiber of her body. Then he applied his mouth to her other breast. Of its own accord, her body arched under the relentless, delicious ache and his sure knowledge of how to please her. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear the coiling pressure a moment longer, his fingers pressed and rubbed on a place between her legs that blinded and blocked out the world with a piercing relief. She wanted more of that, of everything, immediately, but he held his torso still. Below, his hips barely moved, just enough to make her crave more. He moved against her with increased pressure but refused to fill her again, even when she relaxed her legs and squirmed to follow his movements. Her heart leaped up into her throat when he kneed her wider. Her mind emptied of all thought but to have him inside.
Desperate, she gasped, “Why do you wait?”
He hummed a deep growl that vibrated against her chest. “Waiting is part of the pleasure.”
After a swallow, she managed to ask, “How did you know?”
“Know what, sweet Evangeline?”
“Before. Where to touch. What I like.”
He shifted to his side, uncovering her to the rush of cool air. She felt him watching her face as he used one fingertip to make circles, traveling over and around her torso, leaving a wake of gooseflesh. He stopped at the edge of the blond hair below, trailing his touch back and forth between her hipbones, never venturing lower. Passion she’d ignored and pushed away for years began to howl for sustenance.
He softly laughed before answering, “Because we were made for each other. No one else will ever satisfy us after this.” He slid the teasing finger lower. “Anticipation of what is to come is as delightful as getting there. Do you like what I’m doing?”
“Yes.” Between pants, she admitted, “I never knew what all of that meant until now. Anticipation. Yes, I like it.”
His warm breath brushed across her shoulder, gliding up to murmur words she couldn’t understand against her neck. She wanted to ask him to use his tongue across her upper lip as he’d done before but he increased the pressure between her legs.
“Oh, Evangeline, how I love your candor.”
“What?”
“You’ve been mumbling away. All of it quite descriptive and lurid. How adorable. You see how well we know each other? You know that I like honestly spoken words of passion.”
She struggled to think about that, while the ache inside intensified, making her press her spine into the mattress. Surprise had her retreating when he withdrew and inserted two fingers, sinking deeply until she felt his knuckles. He began to rub those wonderfully annoying circles. Her heart pounded inside her head from the intensifying ache below. An embarrassing, gasping moan escaped.
He laughed softly into her hair. “Talk naughty to me, Evangeline, in Parisien.”
“Only if you remove your hand. I cannot think with you doing that. No, all the way out. And no rubbing on the outside.”
When he placed his hand flat on the bed by her side, she slid her hand down between them. Her knuckles strafed the ridges banding his abdomen. It was her turn to smile at his flinch when she gripped his hardness and moved her hand in the way Edward had taught her.
She moistened her dry lips. “Now it is my turn to give the anticipation.”
His hai
r fell forward, hiding his face when he bowed his head in surrendered acceptance. His fingers clenched the coverlet. Arm muscles quivered and flexed.
The dark laugh of victory that rolled out of her sounded unfamiliar and exciting. “How did I ever encompass all of this, take it all into my body?”
In a hoarse voice, he answered, “You didn’t get all. This time, you will.”
“Saving the maiden’s virtue?” She tightened her grasp and lengthened the movement until he nipped her shoulder with a guttural moan.
“Blast it, Evangeline, I can’t take much more of this.”
“Then what will you do, my lord? How will you bear it when I use my mouth?”
He pulled her hand free. She laughed again, a bit wildly, when he shoved her knees apart and entered. Threading their fingers to join their palms, he pressed her wrists into the bed and moved with measured thrusts that quickly grew stronger and more erratic.
“Alfred, look at me.”
When dazed blue eyes, darkened by pleasure, tried to focus on hers, she said, “Now, my Alfred, I will watch you, as you watched me. And there will be no withdrawing, no leaving me at the end.”
He inhaled when she lifted her hips, allowing him to slide deeper. She clasped his waist with her legs, and dug her heels into the tough, clenching and unclenching muscles of his bottom. She laughed again when he began to shudder from the strain of holding back, waiting for her, but she would have none of that. She sank her hands into the sleek, strands of fine black hair to hold him still. She raised her lips to his and whispered a very naughty word into his mouth.
A thrill held her motionless when he turned his head to muffle an outcry against her neck. He stilled within her, caught in the throes of release. She tightened inner muscles, fearing he would pull away and was rewarded with a shuddering groan. He crushed her fingers in a trembling grasp and silenced another outcry behind firmly sealed lips.
After collapsing on his side, he pulled her against his chest and muttered into her mussed hair, “Lud, Evangeline, you’re diabolical.”
She rather liked that. Snuggling closer, she chortled and rubbed the tip of her nose in his springy chest hair. “How could I not be? I had to survive to take care of Ned. One must be clever or determined.”
“I would say you have equal parts of each.” He hoisted up on an elbow and raked back his hair with a swipe of his hand. Then he looked down, studying her minutely. His fingers glided into her hair and skimmed over her scalp, sending tingles everywhere. She mimicked his move, and he took her wrist, placing her palm flat in the center of his chest.
“Evangeline, tell me why. Why did you encourage this to happen, when for so long you pushed me away?”
She turned her head to face him, resting her cheek on the pillow. The linen felt damp. The chill air dried the perspiration on her skin, making her shiver. He flipped the covers back and rolled them underneath. Settled under the warmth, he continued to watch her, while she dithered over what to tell him.
“Answer me, Evangeline.”
Weary of subterfuge and avoidance, she whispered, “I didn’t want to wait, because I heard about the duel.”
When he said nothing, she rolled onto her back and looked up at the shadowed canopy overhead. Unable to hide her despair, she asked, “What if you never come back?”
He pulled her onto her side to face him. “I will, Evangeline. After tonight, nothing will stop me.”
She met his gaze and gave him one full of meaning. “A pistol ball could have something to say about that.”
He gathered her close, rolling with her so she sprawled across his torso. Using both hands, he smoothed her hair back and framed her face. “Evangeline, this is our time for happiness. I won’t let anything come between us now.”
“Alfred, you have not thought this through. A man who fights a duel over a woman is obligated to that woman, forever connected to her. I do not mind gossip, but I must think of Ned.”
The shaking of laughter, jostled her. “Ned? An unwed duke? There is nothing you could do to stop the horde of hopefuls that awaits that poor fellow. Mamas will be battering down the doors to get at him.”
She rested her chin on his chest. “I suppose you are right, but I am not pleased that you risk yourself for that stupid girl.”
He lifted her up by the arms, a frown replacing humor. “Is that what you think? Evangeline, her lover challenged me. As Harry said, it’s little more than a farce, and because of it, her reputation is ruined. I can force them to break the contract. They’d be laughed out of court if they try to counter-sue.”
His words didn’t fully sink in, until he surprised her by abruptly asking, “Where do you want to get married?”
“Married?”
“Certainly. I already have papers ready to present for releasing me from the contract.”
“But Alfred, you are engaged in a duel to protect her reputation.”
“You haven’t been listening. Lady Caroline’s lover challenged me. The only reason I agreed was to get free of the girl.” He nipped the tip of her nose. “That’s why I let you have your wicked way with me tonight.”
Understanding came slowly. The reasons for the duel were so convoluted and unusual. “You are saying that the only reason you accepted the challenge was because it provided you with a very public way to dissolve the contract. Oh, Alfred, I do understand. You are doing it for us.”
His wide mouth curved up in a grin. He used a forefinger to smooth over her eyebrow. “I have this terrible weakness for blondes. Especially the ones who insist on ruining their hair with dye and hide their wanton natures behind—”
“I forgive you for not asking me properly, and let us be married here, in the green saloon.”
“Whatever you like. Elizabeth will be in transports. I’ll get us a special license and—”
“No, no. There must be a proper interval after the duel. How very shabby, marrying the second you are quit of Lady Caroline. Not bon ton!”
“Little liar. I think you like the idea for no other reason than to humiliate the Pendrylans.”
She shook back her hair. “I do not like them. I admit it. They have no manners and are not worth our time. Do we have time for more anticipation? I had Smith prepare your room across the hall, so we have until dawn.” A disquieting thought intruded. “Is the duel in the morning? If so, you must sleep.”
“Not necessarily, and Harry has set it for Friday morning. And we will talk more about it later.”
“I know about men and their dealings. You will tell me nothing.”
“We should discuss how I will get out of your bedchamber without being noticed.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “That has been arranged. There is the room across the hall where you stayed last time. Or you could allow someone to find you downstairs, snoring while you cuddle a decanter of brandy. In the meantime, we have a few hours until everyone in the house is asleep. Will you teach me more about anticipation?”
“Oh, Evangeline, there are countless variations on that theme.”
“Then we shall play them all, n’est-ce pas?”
Rejoicing to the stirring of his body’s recovery and renewed interest, Freddy looked up for a last glimpse of her lovely eyes as the candle beside the bed began to flutter and fail. In the flickering light, he watched her lips curve into that secretive smile women had when they knew they had conquered.
She laughed a deep-throated chortle when he flipped her onto her back and wished he still had the light. A fierce sense of triumph filled his heart and head as he savored the responses he evoked as he re-awakened the passionate nature she hid so well. He doubted she realized that her fingernails were digging into his arms. She stopped when she had to use a hand to muffle a long, sweet whine of completion. Before the sound ended, he was on her, entering as she continued to quiver inside and out. She immediately started to move with him, claiming him with a fierce, internal clutch that almost broke his restraint. How did she know exactly what he liked? He hel
d on to the pleasure-pain long enough to grasp her jaw and lift her chin.
The instant before he allowed his body the freedom to release the burning pressure, he whispered against her mouth, “Forever, beloved. Forever.”
Chapter 28
“Your Grace?”
Evangeline didn’t turn from looking out the window. The resurrection of her title still seemed alien, like something drawn from distant memory. Tomorrow morning, Grieves would stand up against Hardwicke-Baines on some secluded field. She couldn’t erase the image of Grieves lying on the ground from a fatal wound. It was so difficult to focus on anything else. She could only pray that her feeble hope of the duel being called off might happen. But men could be so stubborn about such things. Surely interrupting one’s intended with her lover was enough to breach a contract
Dread followed her, like a smothering blanket. How wonderful it would be to somehow transport herself to tomorrow evening and have this wretched episode over with. She couldn’t bear a future without Grieves. Making love with him had sealed the bond. It felt so strange to have Ned pushed aside.
Nothing felt real. In days, her life would change forever. Soon she would move to her son’s residence. Archibald had agreed to quit the establishment. She would live at Havardshire House with Ned, where, so long ago, she had expected to live with dear Edward whenever they visited London.
Then why this strange feeling of abandonment? It had to come from missing out on so much of his life, the years gone that could never be brought back. Ned had only gone to his tailor, not back to the Continent, or Italy, where he’d spent most of his life. He was safe from Archibald. Anger stirred to life again, her fury that one man’s evil behaviors could cause such pain and turmoil.
Her gown swished as she pivoted to answer Crimm. Ned had insisted on finer clothes for himself and for her, an immediate change of mode to fit his station. Lady Asterly’s seamstress selected gowns and had them altered overnight. Evangeline had given in to clothes, but not to leaving the Cavendish Square without speaking to Elizabeth.
