The Bridal Contract (Darrington family Book 3)

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The Bridal Contract (Darrington family Book 3) Page 11

by Sandra Sookoo


  “I shall go with you, for I do so love the ocean.” She stood and shook out her skirts as if nothing earth-shattering had occurred between them. “Let me just run back home and grab a shawl. Those breezes can be quite chilly.” The minx then leaned down close, put her lips to his ear and whispered, “Unless you’d like to wait until the cover of darkness. I’ve become quite fond of sea bathing in the nude when there’s no one about.”

  As she quit the room with Daniela trotting at her heels, Oliver uttered a noise that sounded something like “gawk.” What the hell had she just said? Sea bathing nude? He worked his jaw as his brain struggled to match that daring act with the docile, uninteresting woman he thought he’d known. Was it possible she held a few secrets and one of them was an adventurous soul? He swallowed again and shoved his other hand through his hair, upsetting the style he’d spent so much time perfecting earlier. Well, the reprieve would be all to the good, since if he had stood in her company, he would have given away just how much he held her in regard. Even still, he shifted to accommodate his burgeoning length.

  A groan escaped him. What the devil was he supposed to do now?

  Chapter Nine

  Eloisa’s attempt to deny or explain away her reaction to Oliver’s kiss was more of a farce than their engagement, but it was his willingness to help her smooth things over with Lord Everly that made shafts of clean, white light strike through her heart. Yes, no doubt concern for his family name largely motivated his actions, yet there was a tiny part of her that hoped he’d wanted to defend her from the fat lord. He hadn’t needed to fight her battles. The fact he had made her grateful and wary by turns. And, for once, she had no qualms with allowing him to do so. It was nice to be able to depend on a man and not have to be strong all the time.

  Exceedingly nice.

  None of that mattered as she met him and Daniela in front of his town house. In silence they headed toward the shore. Still early yet, for she’d invaded Oliver’s territory a little after six that morning, no one else was about on the beach. A few gulls and terns gadded along the sand. They left tracks from where they’d been. Then the relentless waves erased the tracks as if they’d never happened. Long, golden rays of light reached across the landscape as the sun began its ascent.

  Every time she tried to introduce a conversational topic, confusion gripped her mind. Just walking beside him made her stomach flutter and her heart palpitate. What was this foolishness? She meant nothing to the viscount nor he to her. That was the arrangement. Thirty days bound to a fake engagement then he’d pay off her brother’s debt and she’d keep his mother’s matchmaking at bay. No more, no less. With extra effort than she liked, she summoned Peter’s image to her mind. If possible, it had faded another level. Yes, she remembered him in a tucked away part of her heart and would probably always do so, but now, he wasn’t as strong in her mind’s eye. Why? Did Oliver’s arrival in her life bully the need for Peter away?

  She glanced at him in profile. His sun-kissed brown hair stuck up in hopeless spikes due to the wind. The ever-present stubble shadowing his jaws and cheeks sent tingles of delight down her spine. Oh, what would those whiskers feel like against her bare skin, her belly, her breasts? Eloisa shivered and the gesture had nothing to do with the sea breeze. Dear heavens, what sort of woman was she to think such things about a relative stranger? Again, she relied on Peter’s memory.

  I’m still in love with Peter. I don’t need, overtures from Oliver.

  Except she’d blatantly whispered one of her few secrets into his ear before they’d left. Yes, she did adore sea bathing when the shore was emptied, and it was something Peter had always frowned upon as not being proper. The expected warmth that had always accompanied a fond remembrance of her dead beau never came.

  But I made a promise to him. The image in her mind seemed to frown as it blew away. Obviously, it didn’t think her willpower where the viscount was concerned would hold. Two more steps and her thoughts returned to the man beside her. Why, exactly, had he kissed her that morning? Surely he hadn’t been moved to do so out of pity for her situation. Such a thing was unfathomable, for the problem hadn’t been that severe after all. Given enough time and a cup of tea to calm her nerves, she could have worked out the puzzle for herself.

  Then why? Had his mother’s disregard for her as a person and a potential match shaken her confidence so much? Botheration. Buck up, girl. One opinion of you has no power to defeat you.

  “If you have a specific question you’d like to ask me, I’d advise you to do so. Nothing is gained by staring and pondering, and I must say, I don’t care for it by half,” Oliver warned in a low voice. He kept his gaze focused on Daniela, who danced about, skipping and singing, ahead of them. Her doll swung in her hand.

  Heat jumped into Eloisa’s cheeks. Perhaps it would be best if she asked him point blank. Her stomach churned. What if he’d merely been amusing himself? Oh, but that look of pure wickedness in his eyes the moment before their lips met couldn’t signify that.

  He cleared his throat. “Miss Hawthorne?”

  She heaved a sigh, gathered up every last bit of courage then asked, “Why did you kiss me?”

  “I wanted to.” When he glanced at her, nothing except honesty shone in his expression, but those blue eyes, those brilliant orbs of fathomless mystery darkened with wile and sin. “I enjoyed it and will probably try for another one if a situation arises. I hope you don’t mind. You didn’t seem to have any objections this morning, and we should act the loving couple.”

  The heat spread throughout her body. Oh my, oh my, oh my! “I, er…” She’d been little less than a wanton while returning his kiss. The memory of his tongue against hers, the slight pressure of his fingers as he’d dug them into her back, and the press of his knee between hers all sent need into her core. “No, I don’t mind.” Dear heavens, do I have peas for brains?

  “Good.” He resumed his eagle-eyed watch on his young charge.

  Well, that provided no insight nor did it relieve the knot of confusion currently occupying her brain. She worried the inside of her lip. It was horrible of her to encourage Oliver when she knew in her heart of hearts nothing would come of it. She wouldn’t let it—she couldn’t. When all was said and done, she wouldn’t break her promise to Peter. He’d been her first and only love, the first and only man to introduce her to carnal knowledge. Surely one didn’t throw over that sort of romance simply for whatever it was between her and Oliver.

  Blast, if I only knew what it was!

  “Hold my hand,” Daniela demanded of her as she shoved herself between Eloisa and Oliver.

  Gently, Eloisa grasped the tiny fingers that were, for whatever reason, wet though she hadn’t seen the girl get near the water. “Where are we going, pet?” She smiled to know Oliver would keep her. He’d truly fallen in love with the child the night she’d called him papa. How wonderful such unconditional love must be! An ache squeezed her heart while longing awakened deep inside her. Would she ever know the wonder and joy of holding her own child, of loving it? Of course not. Staying true to Peter’s promise would see to that.

  “Now, Papa, you.”

  “Ah, but if I hold your other hand, whatever will happen to your doll?” Humor clung to his voice, which was much different than what had been there when he’d addressed her.

  Daniela paused with her bottom lip protruding in a near pout, then her expression cleared. “You hold my baby.” She handed him the doll, which he took from her with all the aplomb of a man regularly used to carting around children’s toys. No stodgy image to project for the viscount. “Hold my hand.”

  The little girl was getting to be quite the tyrant, but Oliver followed instructions without complaint. Eloisa’s insides melted. What sort of Englishman, and a titled one at that, would willingly make time for a child, and especially one who had no trace of his blood in her?

  “You know, if you continue to spoil her, she’ll be a handful soon. Brattish, really,” Eloisa warned. She rather e
njoyed walking along with a child between them as if they were a real family. Her throat constricted. But neither of them was hers.

  “Ah, but my dear Miss Hawthorne, why shouldn’t I spoil my poppet for just a little while when her life recently has been less than ideal?” He shot her a sideways glance brimming with mischief. “She’s only small once. Childhood should be a magical time, and I can provide that for her.”

  Eloisa dropped her jaw. What sort of man was Oliver and did he mean what he said? She looked at him, but he was gazing out to sea. Even in profile, the desire for that ever-changing mistress lined his expression. She snapped her mouth shut then swallowed anything else she might have said. Just as Daniela would grow, all too soon the viscount would return to his ship and sail well away from England. When that happened, would he take the child with him along with her heart? Would he care that he did?

  And where would that leave her? Somehow, a contract fulfilled and coin exchanging hands didn’t leave her as satisfied as she’d once thought, her sister being free notwithstanding.

  Daniela broke away from them and Eloisa missed the warmth of holding her hand. She didn’t go far though, skipping and chattering to herself. The breeze raked through her black curls and ruffled the bow at the back of her head. No doubt she’d charm her way through the world just like her father.

  “No running off, dearest,” Oliver warned. He chased after her then scooped her up in his arms. “Want to twirl?” Without seeming care for his boots or his trousers, he waded into the surf. The foamy water swirled about his calves and he spun around in circles with Daniela held away from his body so she really could soar above the sea.

  Squeals of delight came from the girl. A huge smile split her expression. “More, more, more, Papa!”

  As she giggled and laughed, Oliver laughed along with her. Eloisa stood transfixed. He looked as light-hearted and carefree as his daughter, and in so doing, seemed infinitely wise and youthful at the same time. The hearty laugh, the infectious smile, the willingness to make a special bond with the girl tugged at her heart. He’d be a wonderful father and no doubt a great husband as well. Except, he wasn’t looking for a wife. And even if he was and he wanted that with her, how could she go to him already used and soiled as she was?

  She’d never regretted her rash decision to lay with Peter until right now.

  Eventually, Oliver set Daniela on her feet and the girl promptly tumbled to the sand with another giggle. When she’d regained her equilibrium, she took her doll in hand and spun them both around in mimic of what she’d just experienced, even went so far as to stick a tiny, booted foot in the water before peeking at her father. At the slight shake of his head, she scampered back a few feet. He glanced at Eloisa. Mischief and something much darker and more exciting burned in his gaze. “What do you think, Daniela? Shall I pick Eloisa up? Shall I twirl her too?”

  “Yes!” The child’s dark curls bounced with her empathic nod.

  “Oh, no.” Eloisa shook her head then retreated. “I have no wish to let you cavort around with me in such a fashion.”

  “Ah, but that only means you’ve never cavorted before and have no idea what you’re missing out on,” Oliver replied as he prowled ever closer.

  Her stomach clenched with alarm. “Honestly, don’t even think about it.” His playful side set her at sixes and sevens. When he didn’t slow his steps, she pivoted then ran down the beach. Merciful heavens, the man had gone daft.

  “There’s nowhere to run, Eloisa.” Oliver’s reply seemed just at her ear, and when she risked a glance behind her, her heart gave a leap for he truly was. Seconds later, he’d grabbed her about the waist and stayed her flight. “You’ve been caught by a rogue, my dear. Nothing for it now except to let him have his wicked way with you.”

  “No, Oliver Darrington, don’t you dare pick me up!” The demand came out rather half-heartedly since he’d already done exactly that. Butterflies tickled her stomach as she threw her arms around his wide shoulders merely to maintain balance. “Oh.” His arms beneath her knees and around her back were as strong as iron. What would his body feel like pressing hers into a mattress?

  He twirled her around. “Hmm, whatever shall I do with this delectable bundle in my arms?” His eyes twinkled with deviltry. “Shall I take you out and drop you in the sea?”

  “No!” She grabbed onto him, suddenly terrified he’d follow through on the threat.

  “What’s the matter, love? Can you not swim?” He held her closer. “Or are you in reality a mermaid who will transform the instant you touch water?”

  A tremor raced down her spine. “I can swim, of course. Didn’t I tell you so?”

  “Ah, yes, in the nude, I believe you said.” The grin curving his lips turned decidedly impish. “Just proves my point you’re a mermaid and very tempting, unless you intend to swim away from me.”

  Daniela skipped over. She darted between the flirting waves and them, eventually running circles around Eloisa and Oliver. “My papa and Mama Isa.” She repeated the phrase over and over while trotting with apparent non-stop energy.

  “Isn’t she the sweetest thing?” Eloisa didn’t think her heart could swell any further. She’d gone and fallen in love with the child and would miss her terribly once Oliver left.

  “She is a darling girl, but at the moment, I’m quite certain there is someone much sweeter than her I need to pay attention to.” He steadily moved them into the water. Daniela watched them from the shore then eventually settled onto the sand with her dolly propped next to her. “How can any man in his right mind concentrate on Daniela when his arms are full of such a pretty woman?” He arched an eyebrow. “Shall I kiss you here, I wonder?”

  “You’ve gone mad, Viscount Tralsburg.” Her stomach executed a free fall. Was his flirting genuine or was it something he would do with any available woman? Or worse yet, was he only carrying on like this to make it seem that their engagement was real? “Perhaps being on land has been bad for your health,” Eloisa joked. When she attempted to squirm out of his arms, he tightened his hold. Where had her breathlessness come from?

  “I think you may be right.” He set her on her feet but kept a hold of her hips while she acclimated to finding her balance in the constantly moving sea. “The only cure I know to make a sea captain forget his love of the waves is a kiss.”

  “And if I don’t give it?” She swayed with the motion of the waves as her dress grew ever wetter. The slight chill crept up her limbs. Though she might be out of practice with flirting, it amused her too much to cry off now.

  “I’ll just have to devise a different way of taking what I want.” While his gaze remained locked on hers, he moved his hands from her hips to her waist. “Give in, Miss Hawthorne. You know you want to, and I won’t let you return to the house unless you do.”

  She fought with her conscience and the lingering guilt attached to Peter’s promise and her own self-worth. Oh, how she wanted to fall beneath the spell his low-pitched voice, hypnotic eyes, and warm fingers wove around her. “How do you know I want to give in?” In the end, she couldn’t resist the teasing. Thank heavens they were still alone on the beach.

  “Don’t be naïve, Eloisa.” He put his lips nearer her ear while gently squeezing her bum with one hand, pulling her closer. “Your nipples are clearly visible through your bodice and it’s not nearly chilly enough out here for that reaction to be from only the cold.”

  With a gasp, she stepped away from him, out of his hold. “What a rogue you are to even mention something like that,” she whispered. She would not look down. It wasn’t needed, for she already knew he was correct. Her nipples were indeed hard. With every movement, the sensitized buds scraped against the lawn of her shift. Where the devil had her shawl gone? Belatedly, she realized it must have dropped when she’d held Daniela’s hand. Her breasts were heavy with need to know his hands upon them. Yes, she couldn’t deny it any longer. This man made her mad with want. Never had she felt desire this strongly before. “I’m goin
g back to the house.” Indeed, she’d turned and taken a step in the opposite direction, when he grabbed her hand and easily hauled her against his chest with one effortless tug.

  “Not without that kiss.” He snaked an arm about her waist while he held her chin with the other one. “I wasn’t in jest. There’s something about you that demands I kiss you until you’re lost. Something in you calls out to me with a siren song greater than the sea. I can do nothing less than explore the reasons why.” He lowered his mouth to hers.

  Eloisa sighed against his lips. Why shouldn’t she enjoy herself in the embrace? It alone would provide her with memories to warm her in the nights to come. She gladly burrowed closer into his chest as he flattened his hand across the small of her back. They were moments away from creating a scandal, especially since the insistent bulge of his arousal prodded her belly. Merciful heavens, she had no idea she affected him so strongly. The fact only added heat to the molten fire coursing through her veins. He only had to glide his tongue along the seam of her lips before she opened to him, gladly inviting him. She gloried in the warmth of his tongue on hers, of the awareness crackling over her skin, of the warmth building low in her belly. In Oliver’s arms, she had the sensation of clarity, that everything would come about the way it was always intended. He embodied adventure and the allure of far-off places, of laughter and shared sighs in darkened places. She wanted all of that and more like nothing she’d ever wanted in her life, except…

  With a gasp, she dragged herself away from his heated tongue and lean, hard frame. Except she’d made that damn promise to Peter and he’d died before releasing her. She’d known it, oh, how she’d known it was impossible to move forward, yet she’d let herself fall for Oliver’s charm and the far-fetched possibility of something changing. Of course it wouldn’t. It couldn’t! Hadn’t she spent too many years already keeping covenant with her parting words to her dear Peter? It was too much a habit now.

 

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