“And you, Cleo?” Mia asked.
“Four girls,” she said, her tone lined with bitterness.
So she had produced no heirs for her husband, a feat his first wife had failed at as well. Four new daughters would give the man a total of seven. Goodness, that was a lot of dresses to purchase.
“Four nieces and two nephews, I should very much like to meet them sometime,” Mia said.
“That would be lovely,” Fran agreed. “We did come to invite you with us to attend the opera. My husband has a private box. It would be a gentle way to introduce you back into Society.”
“I hadn’t given much thought to being involved in Society,” Mia said. Actually she hadn’t given any thought to Society. But since The Times had run the story about her, it did seem a logical conclusion. People would expect her to return. But she didn’t precisely trust her sisters.
That being said, she had longed to do things that those in polite Society did, such as attend the opera, perhaps a play—she might not be able to see the stage, but she could certainly hear the dialogue or the music, be a part of the story in that way, since she missed reading so. She knew their offer of hospitality wasn’t sincere; it was an obligation, nothing more. Perhaps Fran felt some tender feelings of affection toward her, but she’d still cut Mia out of her life. But if they could use her, she could certainly use them. “I would love to attend the opera,” she said.
“You will need something appropriate to wear,” Cleo said.
“I will see to it that she has new gowns,” Alex’s voice sounded from the doorway. In her focus on her sisters, Mia had missed him approach, hadn’t even heard the door open. “As many as she needs or wants,” he added.
“Your Grace,” Cleo said. “I don’t see how that’s your concern.”
“Did you want to purchase them for her, then?” he asked.
Mia hid a smile behind her cup of tea.
“Certainly not. My husband has myself and four daughters to clothe,” Cleo said, appalled by the mere suggestion.
“Not to mention his other three daughters who remain unmarried, I understand,” Alex said.
Mia wanted to run across the room, throw her arms around him and kiss him senseless. She knew her sister itched to respond, but Cleo was no fool and she knew better than to speak ill to someone above her station. She might not like it, but she would respect Alex’s title as Duke.
“I suggest you resist the urge to instruct me how to spend my money,” Alex said when Cleo offered no response. “If I want to buy Mia a closet full of new clothes, I shall do so.” He’d come further into the room now, Mia could feel the warmth of his body not far from hers, the timbre of his voice close. Her body responded immediately; her heartbeat sped up, her breathing became more shallow.
“Alex, that really isn’t necessary. I do have some money,” Mia argued.
“No, you are my guest and as such shall be reintroduced under my name,” he said softly. Now he stood directly next to her chair. He placed a protective hand over her shoulder, an intimate touch that no doubt shocked her eldest sister to the roots of her hair. Mia lost the battle to hide her glee and smiled up at him.
“I do believe we should be leaving,” Cleo suggested.
“Indeed,” Alex agreed.
“It was so lovely to see you again, dear sister,” Fran said. She reached for Mia’s hand and held it tightly. Mia stood and allowed her sister to embrace her. “I have missed you so,” she whispered close to Mia’s ear.
Mia’s heart tightened at her sister’s admission. It was easier to be angry with them for their selfishness. But Fran had been but a girl herself when their mother had tossed Mia aside. Hardly old enough to disobey. Perhaps their relationship could be mended with time and forgiveness.
Cleo didn’t bother touching her, but bid them all a good day as she and Fran left the parlor. Mia returned to her seat not certain how she felt about any of what had occurred in the last few days. Despite years of not feeling any anger at all toward her family, she still felt betrayed and hurt by their abandonment.
“Are you alright?” Alex asked once they were alone.
“I suppose. I had often wondered what it would be like if I were to be with them again. How they would react. How I would react,” Mia said.
“And?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m not really certain what I should be feeling right now. They haven’t changed much.”
“So your eldest sister has always been like that?” Alex asked.
She chuckled. “Yes, Cleo has always been a bit on the sour side.” She paused a moment before asking, “how did they look?”
“Much as they did the last I saw them. Fran and you resemble one another, though she’s fairer in color and shorter than you. Cleo, in one word, is pinched. She’s overly thin and her features are tight from too many years of scowling, I believe.”
His descriptions matched what she remembered of how her sisters looked. “You scowl,” Mia said.
“Perhaps I should stop. I should hate to resemble your sister.”
Mia laughed. “And I should hate for that too. She’s always been an unhappy person. Fran was amicable, always eager to please our parents, especially our mother. She never was a disobedient child.”
“She seemed to have genuinely missed you,” he said.
“Perhaps.”
“And have you missed her?”
“Of course. And Cleo, too, in her own way,” she said. “Family is family, despite their problems and bad habits. I would be a liar if I said I hadn’t missed my family all these years. But that does not mean I forgive them. I don’t know if I ever could do that.”
“I certainly wouldn’t expect you to. I don’t think anyone would expect that of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Alex, I wish for you to make love to me again,” Mia said.
Her request took him aback. They had merely been discussing her sisters and Mia had gone quiet before her shocking statement. She stepped over to him then, placed both of her hands on his chest. He took a moment before answering since his initial response was to toss her over his shoulder and cart her to his bedchamber like some sort of barbarian.
“You know that I cannot.” Alex trailed a hand down her arm, then clasped her by the wrist. He brought it to his mouth and left a warm kiss. “There is nothing I would rather do. My want for you drives me to near madness.”
“Then there is no reason for you to deny yourself. I am willing. I care not about the proprieties,” she argued. “My reputation means nothing and you will soon be married.”
“But you are to be introduced into proper Society now. Someone will want to marry you,” he said.
She flinched as if he’d struck her and dropped her hands off his body. “Who, Alex? Who will want to marry the poor blind girl? You know the answer to that is no one.”
“I could establish a dowry for you,” he offered.
She shook her head. “No. Everyone will know we’ve been together, intimately, if you do that.”
“Mia, some man will want to marry you, dowry or not,” he said.
“I don’t want someone to marry me simply because they feel pity for me or they’re curious about my blindness or they want to attach themselves to the latest bit of gossip.” She tried to smile. “No man will ever take me for a wife.”
“That’s not true, Mia.” But though he knew she was worthy of being someone’s wife, he also knew the reality of the aristocracy. The odds of her finding a husband were slim. And it was too late for them, he’d done his duty and asked Juliet.
“Even you, who claim to desire me as a woman, couldn’t completely justify marrying me because you believe me damaged,” she countered.
“Yes.” Then he caught himself. “Wait, that’s not what I meant.”
“Of course it is. There is no need to lie. Be honest with yourself and be honest with me. I don’t need you to whisper lies to me.” She didn’t walk away from him then, instea
d she put her hands on his chest. “I need you to touch me. As shameful as it is, I wanted you too much to walk away. All I want is one night. I deserve one night.”
He couldn’t argue with her there. She deserved a lifetime of pleasurable nights.
“I don’t want you merely to pleasure me,” she continued, “I want you inside me, the way it is meant to be between a man and a woman.”
At the brazenness of her words desire surged through him. Damnation, but he wanted this woman. Wanted her in a way he’d never wanted anything else in his life. The simple touch of her hands on his chest was kindling to his lust.
“Do you want your fiancée the way that you want me?” she asked.
“That is not what this is about, Mia,” he said.
“Answer me,” she insisted.
“I don’t know what this solves, but no, I do not want her the same way that I want you.” Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever felt a tremor of lust for Juliet. “But that doesn’t change anything,” he said. “I am still engaged to marry Juliet.”
She reached up and cupped his face in her hands. “But tonight you are not married,” she said quietly. “Tonight you could be mine.” She smiled coyly. “You did ask me first.”
He thought of a million reasons he should walk out of the room. Take her hands off of his body and leave her standing here alone. But none of those reasons were enough to convince him to step away. The fact of the matter was he wanted this night, too, and he knew he was still standing here waiting for her argument to wear him down, to remove any logical reasons against them sharing a night together.
“I am not one to take pity on myself and wallow in the plight of my life. We all have our burdens to endure. But I had no say in any of the decisions that brought me here. I simply would like to be able to make one damned decision in my life.” She paused, then added softly. “I will not beg you, Alex.”
He would not make her beg. And she was right. She was a grown woman perfectly capable of making a decision for herself. And he wasn’t married yet.
The risk was great. Alex could destroy her reputation tonight, but she had lived outside of polite Society for years. Would her virtue really matter all that much?
He certainly desired her, more so than his betrothed. Juliet was lovely and demure and everything a duchess should be, yet he felt nothing toward her. Though he hoped in time he would come to feel some shred of affection for her and she him. He’d never harbored any delusions of finding a love match, he wasn’t even certain such a thing existed. His own parents had been miserable with one another. All he’d ever wanted in a marriage was one less awful than his parents’ had been. He’d never dared to dream of the kind of passion he felt with Mia.
He whispered a curse, then he kissed her. She was right, of course—no one had ever allowed her to make any choices about her life. What girl would have chosen to have her family abandon her, tell the world she had died simply because she’d been injured and now could no longer see?
Her kiss was full of passion and promise. Her hands snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her. She fit so close to him, so perfectly, as if their bodies had been designed for one another. He finished that kiss, then picked her up, cradling her to his body. Without a word they left the room and he carried her straight up the stairs to his bedchamber. He nudged the door closed behind them with his foot.
Slowly he put her back on her feet, allowed her body to scrape against his as she was lowered.
“I want this night,” she whispered.
“I do as well.” Hell, he’d thought about seducing her more times than he had any right to. She should have been off-limits, certainly not a woman to be toyed with in the bedroom. And she was here, in his home, for protection, not seduction.
But she also was a woman with a mind of her own and she wanted this, asked for it. How could he deny her this one wish when she’d already been denied so much?
“Will you do something for me?” she asked.
“Anything,” he murmured. And in that moment, he meant it. If she asked him to choose her instead of Juliet, he was fairly certain he’d toss her in the carriage, and go and find a way for them to elope tonight.
“Douse the lights,” she said.
It was an odd request coming from someone who could not even see the dim lights of his lamps. She stood bathed in that soft light and looked so beautiful and he could not wait to remove that offensive dress from her body. “But I want to see you,” he said.
“You’ve seen me in the light. Now see me the way I see you,” she said. “With only the touch of your hands and the taste in your mouth.”
Tonight he would grant her anything and take her any way he could have her. “Very well.” He positioned her right beside the bed so that he wouldn’t stumble getting her to that side of the room. Then he went through the room extinguishing the lights. But even with all the oil lamps turned down, the glowing embers of the fire cast a warm haze throughout the room. Of course, if he banked them entirely, the room would be drafty, so he moved the screen in front of the hearth until he nearly hid all light coming from the soft flames. Now the room was black as the night sky. He could not see in front of him, but could hear Mia’s breathing, shallow and eager.
“Alex?” she asked, her voice sultry with want.
“I’m right here,” he said, putting his hand on her arm. “So this is what your world looks like now?” he asked.
“Indeed. Black as pitch. But I can sense so much more. Far more than I could before. I hear sounds I would have missed.”
“And your other senses?” he asked.
“I can smell so much. Do you smell the smoke from the doused lamps?”
He inhaled slowly, trying to ignore Mia’s own scent, and there in the background he found a faint scent of soot in the smoke. “I do,” he said.
Her fingers located the buttons on his shirt and deftly unfastened them. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, then to the floor, her bare fingers brushing against the bare skin of his arms as she moved. She then pulled off his undershirt, tracing her fingers across his abdomen, his muscles tensed beneath her touch. Next she worked on his trousers, unfastening them and drawing them down his legs.
He began working on her dress, unbuttoning it but his fingers stumbled. “I’ve never undressed someone in the dark,” he said. But he finished with the buttons, then withdrew it over her head. Then her own underthings until they both stood there in the darkness naked. The first touch of her hands across the front of his thighs sparked with pleasure, lightning across a bare sky.
“In the darkness where you cannot focus on how I look, you will instead concentrate on the feel of my fingers,” she murmured. Her warm mouth found his collarbone and placed a heated kiss there, then she traveled across his torso lacing kisses along his sensitive skin.
“The feel of your mouth,” he said, his own voice sounding ragged to his ears. “God, you feel good,” he said.
“And the feel of my skin beneath your hands . . . touch me,” she said.
And she didn’t have to ask twice. His hands found her arms, moving down the silky skin, then up her back. He cupped her breasts, the hardened tips pressed against his palms. Her nipples tickled against his hands, every sensation heightened by the darkness of the room.
“You’re right. It’s more intense, more focused,” he said.
“We’re not done, though, right?” she asked.
“Oh, not even close.” He picked her up and placed her on the center of the bed, then crawled in beside her. He found her breast with his mouth and suckled until she cried out. Her fingers raked through his hair and held his mouth to her chest. His hand moved down between her legs and he felt through the triangle of hair nestled between her thighs, so soft. Her desire for him dampened his fingers as he explored her nether region. “You’re so wet for me,” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered. Her hand reached down between them and her fingers wrapped around the length of him. The softness of he
r hand against him was nearly his undoing. He allowed her to stroke him for a while before he thought he would come in her hand. He stilled her touch. “No more or this will be over far too soon.”
She chuckled then slid her hand up his torso. They kissed then as his hand continued to play her, sliding in and out of her slick channel. God, he wanted to be inside her. Had wanted it for so long. He found the hidden nub and moved his thumb in a tight circle over it. She sucked in her breath.
He kissed her hard, their tongues melding against one another. He’d never been this hard, never wanted another woman this much. His mouth moved to nibble at her neck, lick the steady, quick pulse at her throat.
Her breathing came out harder, in tight little puffs of air, and she whispered yes again and again. When the climax hit her, her hands hit against the mattress and she shook beneath him as it rocked through her. He didn’t wait for the waves of pleasure to end before he positioned himself atop her and entered her. She was tight and wet and felt better than any woman ever had. A perfect fit.
Again she sucked in a breath. He kissed her mouth, then her face. “I’m sorry if it is painful,” he said. “It won’t be in a moment, but if you want me to stop, I will.”
“No, please make love to me,” she said.
He moved within her, loving the feel of her gripping tight around him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, taking more of him inside her and he gritted his teeth to keep from coming. She was testing his control. Again and again he moved inside her, his own climax climbing and teetering at the edge. He slipped his hand between their bodies, found her hidden nub. Her nails bit into his back as her climax shook through her. One more push into her and he was lost as the pleasure rocketed through him.
In the quiet afterward, Alex lay beside Mia in the darkness, listening to her even breathing. He felt certain she had fallen asleep until he heard her faint whisper.
Robyn DeHart - [Dangerous Liaisons 01] Page 25
