Between the Duke and the Deep Blue Sea

by Sophia Nash

First the Cossack slumped to one side, and just like a horse, fell asleep on his feet. A quarter hour later, Alex watched the chamber door open slowly. He dropped his head to one side and pretended to be asleep.

  He heard her light, fast footfalls coming toward him. At the last moment, he stuck out his boot.

  She tripped and he grabbed her before she could fall forward. He pulled her into his lap and chuckled softly. “Cherie . . . Really?”

  “I beg your pardon,” she said with a put-out air.

  He stood up and gripped her arms and legs to keep her from pushing away from his grasp.

  “Put me down,” she said halfheartedly.

  “Ah . . . non,” he said quietly. “That I will not do. You must come with me now and accept your punishment. It’s been a long time coming.”

  She stopped wiggling. “Botheration. What you call punishment might very well be a reward in disguise.” She smiled finally. “You think you know everything when gentlemen know actually nothing.”

  He was walking as quickly as he could toward his own chamber. “Really? Hmmm. How much do you weigh anyway? I think you’d better stop ladling the sauce moutarde for a while.”

  “And I think you’d better have another bottle of spirits in your chamber.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Good. All the better to bash your head with it.”

  “You certainly took your time trying to escape.”

  “I thought you once told me anticipation is half the fun.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I refuse to remember ever saying that.”

  He awkwardly opened his door, carried her inside, and locked it while almost dropping her.

  “Let me down, Alexander.”

  “No.” He proudly carried her to his bed and placed her in the center, feeling just like an animal guarding his supper. He dropped to one knee, snatched her slippers off, and tossed them over his shoulder.

  He thought he might have heard a giggle, but perhaps it was just the sound of her trying to wiggle away from him.

  “Not on your life,” he murmured. “Be a lady about this.”

  “As long as you don’t plan on tickling me, I’ll accept anything you do.”

  He ran his hands up her calves and then suddenly stopped.

  She rose up to her elbows, a small smile on her face. “What is it?”

  “How far did you think you’d get in your night rail?” He had only just noticed what she was wearing. “You were going to run away in this?”

  She smiled knowingly and it warmed his gut.

  “I told you, gentlemen know very little of anything.”

  “I know how to run away,” he murmured, “and it doesn’t ever include flimsy nightclothes.” He ran his hands higher and higher, allowing her fine cotton night rail to follow his fingers.

  She inhaled raggedly, but failed miserably at appearing undaunted by his actions. “Well, at least you admit running away is your strong suit.” She pulled her foot from his grasp. “You just don’t know how to stay.”

  He retrieved her foot and stretched out her leg again. “Where exactly did you think to go at three o’clock in the morning?” He lazily caressed her beautiful firm limb.

  It brought the prickle of gooseflesh to her skin and he felt her shudder. He leaned closer and turned her ankles out to kiss the tender skin of her inner calves.

  “I, um . . .” She was breathing too fast. “I was . . . Oh, I can’t think when you do that.”

  He stopped for a moment and smiled to himself.

  “But don’t stop. Oh, God—please don’t stop.”

  He smiled wider and could not dam the growing trickle of happiness he tried so hard to stop all his life. “Tell me where you were going.” He began to kiss her legs again when she spoke.

  “To this very chamber, you imbecile.”

  “I must teach you more refined terms of endearment, cherie. And just why were you coming to my chamber?” He had reached her pretty knees. He turned them out as well.

  “I told you. To find . . . spirits.”

  He nipped the inner flesh of her thigh.

  She jumped. “Ow.”

  “That, by the way, is never a sound a man likes to hear in bed. And you haven’t answered the question.”

  She giggled that beautiful, deep laugh of hers and the trickle of happiness flowed faster. He lowered his head back down to continue the feast in an uphill fashion.

  She spoke in a jumble. “Well, I’m no longer married. And I think the world knows I’m not dead. And I will only spend one more night here before I go. So . . .” Her chatter stopped and then she inhaled a shocked sound before scooting farther away from him and drawing her legs back under her gown.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” He stood up, pulled the end of his neckcloth, and then divested himself of his coat and vest before pulling his shirt over his head.

  “That’s what I was going to ask.” Her blue eyes were incandescent in the huge chamber. A single flame from a glassed-in candle illuminated his apartment.

  He crooked his finger toward her. “Come back here, my little flower. You are not going anywhere. Tonight or tomorrow or any other day.” He tugged off his evening footwear, and tossed them over his shoulder as well. His stockings followed in their wake, leaving him in satin knee breeches, which he did not remove.

  “I’m not sure I really like this new domineering habit you’ve assumed. And you cannot tell me what to do.”

  “I can’t?” he growled.

  “No. And by the by, it’s not very romantic. I’m certain Frenchmen don’t seduce women like that. It’s not very smooth or—”

  He jumped on the bed and pinned her down; his hands gripped her arms and his legs encased hers. “You, cherie, talk too much.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I think I do it when I’m nervous.”

  He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I know.” A flush crested her delicate cheeks, and he brushed a stay strand of hair from her face. “It’s one of the things I tolerate from no other woman except you.”

  “I’m not sure if I should say thank you or not.”

  “Hush.” He placed a finger to her lips. “Now, we are going to go somewhere far, far away right now and forget for just a little while what happened today. Will you let me take you?”

  She nodded.

  “Will you not question me?”

  “I can’t promise that.”

  “Good,” he chuckled. “But will you trust me?” He’d asked her that same question a very long time ago. This time he received the answer he had never wished to hear before.

  “With my life.”

  “As I do you with my own,” he said gently.

  Alex gathered her in his arms, protectively, his shoulders flexing over hers. Slowly, ever so slowly he lowered his lips to hers and deeply kissed her, inhaling the honeyed sweetness that was hers alone. He could feel how fast her heart was beating . . . for him.

  He nibbled the edge of her mouth to seek entrance. When she parted her lips he twined his tongue with hers. Her kiss drugged him and he could not get enough of her. He wanted to shred the barrier of her night rail between them, but instead he forced himself to slow down—something next to impossible. The incessant throb of an arousal had taken hold of him the moment he’d placed her on his bed.

  But it had to be a long, leisurely dance for what he had in mind. He wanted to unleash the innate power of her, and he would do it. Even if it was for this one night only. Change was inevitable, but he’d be damned if he’d not live every moment with her while he could still breathe.

  His hands almost trembled with the need to take her, and yet he moved lower to kiss the soft lobe of her ear, the column of her neck, and the length of her collarbone. And all the while the hard length of him pulsed with the need to be inside her.

  She arched her strong, lithe back and sighed as he pushed down her neckline and settled between her breasts, paying homage in the fashion he knew she loved. He would stay h
ere all night if that was what she wanted. He licked. He swirled his tongue and suckled her. He lightly bit the tender crests until she almost sobbed for him to stop.

  With the sweep of his hands he pulled her forward for a moment and swept the gown over her head, leaving her fully revealed before him for the first time. Good God, this was heaven. It must be.

  She was a slender, long, perfectly formed siren. She was lean and strong, with small breasts, slim hips, like a girl entering womanhood who liked climbing trees and clamoring down mines instead of taking tea and eating pastries. Yet, she called to him like no other. She was simply irresistible and he would never want another ever again even if it meant a lifetime without.

  He twisted a long strand of her blond hair, which was loose, and brushed her lips and then the tips of her breasts with it. Watching the ruched tip tighten more made the tension in his groin nearly unbearable.

  “Now, where was I?” he gritted out. He touched his finger to her lips when she opened her mouth.

  Slowly, he moved lower, trying not to think about the exquisite pleasure-pain, the friction caused beyond the fall of his breeches. His feet touched the floor again and he stared into her darkened eyes, and gently, but deliberately spread her long legs apart. This was what he had wanted to do for so long but had never dreamed of actually achieving. He kept his eyes on hers, while he ran his hands over the tops of her lovely slim legs. Again and again he caressed her, first with his hands then with his lips, all the while watching her imperfectly perfect face.

  Her head finally dropped back and her breathing became uneven. He slowed his movement until his hands stopped at the juncture of her thighs. Gently, he pushed her legs even farther apart and raised her knees. He could feel her tension but she did not resist him.

  Her breathing turned ragged when he kissed the inside of her thigh. “Lovely, so very lovely . . .” he murmured between kisses.

  He stole a glance at the tiny dark blond curls at her juncture and felt a primal guttural sound come from him.

  Enough.

  He could not hold back a moment longer.

  He had to touch her. Had to taste her. Had to take her, until they were intertwined as one.

  Chapter 19

  Roxanne thought she knew everything about the act of procreation. This was not like anything she knew.

  It was an act of pure passion in its rawest form. Every touch of his seared a memory of him deep within her. And he was doing things she didn’t understand. Things she’d never experienced in her entire life. She didn’t question. She didn’t have to, because she trusted him with every fiber of her being.

  She wanted to tell him that she loved him, and yet, while her mind sped a thousand miles an hour, she could not. She didn’t care if he didn’t love her back. She just wanted him to know that he was loved unreservedly.

  But this . . . his hands were all over her legs. And his mouth was following his hands, inching up her ankles, her calves, her knees, and now her thighs. She felt as if she was burning and freezing at the same time. And she could not stop shivering.

  “You’re cold,” he murmured between kisses.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No,” she answered breathlessly.

  She felt the day’s growth of whiskers on his face shift on her inner thigh, and she knew he must be smiling. It made her smile, too. Until . . .

  At first she thought his hands had closed the distance. But no, she clenched her eyes shut. His palms were pushing her inner thighs still wider apart.

  And then he was kissing the top of her mound and the crinkle of her hair. Only now he inched lower. She nearly shot off the bed when she felt his tongue stroke her center. Her hands clenched the linen sheet.

  His hot breath fanned her sensitive flesh and she moaned. Every nerve in her body was on fire, and her mind froze. He worked the sensitive center of her and she cried out, uncertain. Immediately, he captured the peak of her cleft, and suckled her, while his hands held her in place, despite the jumble of sounds flowing from her throat.

  And just like before, it became obvious to her that he would not stop until he was satisfied that he had pushed her to the pinnacle.

  Mindless, she took a deep breath, and held still to give in to the growing maelstrom, shattering into a kaleidoscope of lights and a great pulsing release.

  “Mmmmm,” he growled while still clamped to her tender flesh.

  As the tidal pulls within her slowed, she became light-headed and realized she’d forgotten to breathe. Roxanne gulped in air and released the sheet to reach for him. She urged him up and into her arms.

  Never had she experienced such peace and yet felt so empty. Her body wanted his fully. His weight came down on hers and it felt so right. So perfect.

  His eyes were dark with desire as Roxanne ran her hands down his immense shoulders to the sensitive small of his back. Her fingers caught on the band of his breeches, as her mind registered a long ironlike length beneath the black fabric against her thigh.

  “Come to me,” she whispered. She fumbled with the falls until he pushed aside her hand and undid an ivory button on one side.

  His arousal sprang free and he smothered a curse into her shoulder as he tried to yank the opening wider. It took far longer than was necessary to disentangle himself. Roxanne giggled.

  She felt so young and carefree, and full of happiness. This was not at all the practiced seduction she had feared. She didn’t want this to be that. She wanted it to be joyful and warm and intimate.

  He fell back on her and the heavy weight of his sex imprinted on her thigh, shocking her with heat and sensation. She was certain he could feel her racing heartbeat, as the tension coiled inside of her again.

  “I want to be inside you,” he groaned.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “It’s where you belong.” His weight was delicious.

  He grasped her knees and pulled them high above his hips. He rested his forehead against hers and didn’t move for a long moment. She wasn’t sure why he was waiting.

  Her smile disappeared as she felt him move slightly and the blunt end of him slid to the center of her wetness. He rose up on his elbows and gazed at her as he paused at the entrance to her. The moment felt like a benediction.

  She leaned up to kiss his cheek softly.

  It broke him. He plunged into her, past the tight ring of her, and her clenched muscles, past everything, until she felt completely filled in every direction. She was gloriously stretched, and wanted the moment to never end, as he invaded the deepest recesses of her being. He was so hard, and he tested the limits of her with his hot length.

  Nuzzling her neck, and gulping for air, he reached to cup her bottom, holding her firmly in place as he began the long, slow push-release. Roxanne wrapped her arms around his back, hugging him closer to her, while the sparking lights of pleasure swirled in the darkness behind her eyelids.

  She desperately wanted to climb higher with him, and pushed her body to meet him stroke for stroke. She clenched his ironlike back, his muscles rippling under her fingers. The deep, wet, hot glide of him teased her senses until she reached a peak, and remained stock-still. The quicksilver pleasure was elusive until she realized he was drawing out the ecstasy to the outermost limit for them both. She could not move until he met her at the summit, and took her over the edge as a deep growl tore from his throat.

  The two of them fell through space and time together, entwined in the fashion of two eternal lovers entering paradise. Wild pulses of light showered about them; his great surges melded with hers, and she couldn’t stop the cries leaving her lips.

  The rampage rained over them, until he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard, his hands gently massaging her sore hips, before he eased back onto his elbows and caressed her face.

  Her breath evened slowly as she stared at the overly large pupils of his eyes. She reveled in his protective expression. She didn’t need the security he offered, but she loved
that he wanted to give it to her nonetheless.

  He cupped her shoulders with his large hands and she stroked his hair, which had grown too long since she had met him.

  She was shocked by the intensity of her reactions and his. Roxanne would never have known what love could be like if not for the man above her.

  He bent down to kiss her lightly on her eyelids, her cheeks, her forehead, and finally her lips. As he finally pulled back, his brown hair fell forward and his dark eyes looked down at her.

  “I love you,” she whispered, peeling away the last layer protecting her heart.

  “Roxanne . . .” he murmured.

  “No, you must let me say it. It’s not a simple thing, you see. I loved you even before I met you. I loved the idea of you,” she said quietly. “And to think you existed all this time. And it only took that horrid moment when everything went wrong for the both of us for our paths to finally cross. I would fall off that cliff again and again for the promise of you.”

  He caressed her cheeks and dipped to kiss her forehead before she continued.

  “And I love how you took me to the Mount—even when you didn’t want to and had your own set of problems.”

  “I love me for that, too,” he replied.

  She smiled.

  He leaned in for a long, leisurely kiss.

  “So . . . do you love me, too?” She was certain what he would say. But as the silence dragged, doubt snuck in.

  “What do you think?” he murmured.

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  She grasped the pillow resting beside her head, and hit him on the head with it. “Just bloody tell me and put me out of my misery,” Roxanne pleaded. Really, had he no idea?

  “It will only make it worse,” he whispered.

  “No. It will make it better.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Please,” she said grasping his hand. “No matter what happens. It is better to know it. And to say it.”

  “Well, then . . . I love you,” he said, staring at her. “Je t’adore. Bloody hell, cherie. Je t’aime.”

  “Have I told you how much I love French?” She smiled.