She swallowed, realizing her mistake. “Y-yesterday at the match.” She licked her lips. “And then, I saw him on the way here.” She stumbled over the lie, shifting on her feet. “We were in the common where plenty of people could see us.”
He cocked his head, removing his spectacles and cleaning them. “I would caution you to be careful, Bianca. But I will say, Lord Craven appears to return your sentiment so that’s encouraging.”
She nodded, breathing a sigh of relief as she reached for her father’s hand. “What do I do?” she asked, stepping out of her father’s arms and turning to look out at the water.
Her father rubbed a hand on her back. “You should take heart that if it was meant to be, it will happen.”
That made her frown. “Papa. That’s no advice at all.”
He patted her back. “It’s the truth, I am afraid. Many of us are destined to fail at our first attempts at love, but not everyone. I’ll tell you this so you might draw some comfort from the news. He’s accepted our dinner invitation.”
She started in surprise. “Did he?” She’d expected him not to attend. Last night had felt like a goodbye.
Her father nodded. “So I’ll do my best to observe his behavior and then I’ll tell you what I think in the morning.”
Bianca gave her father another quick hug. “That’s a wonderful idea. Thank you.”
“Should I have Mr. Burton escort you home?”
She shook her head. “That’s all right. I don’t want to interrupt his workday. I’ll be fine. I’ll return straight home.”
“Please do,” he said, then he sat at his desk again, his attention already returning to the ledgers.
Bianca left the building, heading along the waterfront until she turned right, back up the street that held their cottage. They usually used the place for captains to stay when they’d be in port for a few days. They kept the place clean and staffed. She stopped in front of its bright red door once again. At least she knew she’d see Chris tonight. What would she say to him to convince him not to leave, to give her an opportunity to convince him of her genuine affection?
Male laughter filtered down the street and she turned to look up toward the square. Was it Chris and his friends? Hope swelled in her chest. But it wasn’t Chris who returned her gaze, rather it was Fred Goodfellow and two other men. Her breath caught as she took an involuntary step back.
“Well,” Fred called down the small street. “Look who it is. Bumbling Bianca. The girl who likes to throw balls into men’s faces. I wonder if she’ll be so brave without her muscle behind her?”
Bianca’s breath caught in her chest. “I won’t apologize if that’s what you’re after. You deserved that ball the way you’ve teased me.”
He sneered, his face hardening. “And what do you deserve now?”
His words made her shiver in fear and for a moment she stood frozen, and then she turned to run.
Chapter Twelve
Chris stared out the window of his bedroom in the cottage. Despite only having slept a few hours, he couldn’t fall back to sleep. His mind was full of Bianca.
The way she looked, of course, but also the way she’d felt, pressed to his side. Her scent. The soft little noises she made while sleeping. Her kindness and understanding.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He wished he could forget his past and dive headlong into a future with her. Could he? What if their children suffered the way he had? The way she had too? What then? It was a legacy he’d never wanted to pass down.
He opened his eyes again to see the very woman who’d filled his thoughts walking up the little cobblestoned street toward the cottage. Hell and damnation, she stopped in front, staring at the door. Was she thinking of him as much as he thought of her?
“Well look who it is. Bumbling Bianca.” He heard a man’s voice echo down the street. Chris straightened from the window. He was only in his shirt. His collar open, not that he cared. Grabbing his pistol from beside the bedside table, he thundered down the stairs and out the door. Bianca fled down the street, three men chasing after her.
His muscles twitched and he took off after them. They caught Bianca just before she reached the water and bile rose in his throat as Fred wrapped his arms about her, lifting her off the ground. He heard Bianca scream as she tried to slap at his face but the man ignored her, disappearing between two buildings.
Anger boiled in his veins as he pushed his legs into a dead sprint. Fred was going to pay.
He picked up speed as the other two men followed behind, Fred and Bianca disappearing from view.
Reaching the space between the buildings, he slid into the dim, shadowed alley and turned his gun in his hand. The first man stood laughing, facing away from him as he watched Fred’s disgusting attempts to kiss Bianca. She struggled to escape the man’s assault.
A growl ripped from his throat as anger burst inside Chris. Every muscle in his body twitched as he brought the butt of the pistol down on the first man’s head. The fellow dropped like a stone. The second man turned toward him and Chris didn’t hesitate, he leveled him with a single fist to the nose.
Then he reached Fred, the man now still. Bianca had stopped struggling as well, her large blue eyes riveted to him. Both he and Fred knew that Fred was no match for Chris’s strength.
Fred took a step back, lifting his hands into the air. Bianca didn’t hesitate as she scrambled behind Chris, pressing her front to his back to hide behind him. Fred took another step backwards. “It was just a bit of fun,” he said, his voice shaking. “I wouldn’t really hurt her. I just wanted to get her back after the ball yesterday. That’s all.”
Chris’s chest squeezed, as his brain buzzed with rage. “I’m going to hurt you.”
“Chris,” she softly pleaded behind him. “Please.”
The sound of her sweet voice calmed his mind and drew in a sharp breath. “Let go of me for a moment, sweetheart.”
She did as he commanded and with a quick twitch, he stepped up to Fred, punching him with an uppercut to the jaw. Fred crumpled to the ground, not even able to get his hands up to defend himself.
Chris would have liked to hit the man several more times for good measure. His fingers flexed in and out of fists as he tried to calm the tide of rage rising in him. Goodfellow deserved a good beating. He dropped to one knee and lifted the limp body by the collar, his other fist rising in the air, but Bianca whimpered behind him. The noise pulled him from his anger and he rose up and turned back to her. Lifting her into his arms, he didn’t hesitate as he carried her out of the alley and back up the street.
She burrowed into his chest. “You can’t carry me like this. People will talk and—”
“I don’t care about people. What were you doing out and about alone?” His voice grated out of his throat, harsh and gravelly.
She shuddered against him. “I needed to talk with my father. I didn’t know what to do and I thought he could help.”
“Didn’t know what to do about what?” he asked, stopping to look down at her.
“About you, of course,” she answered, threading her hands about his neck. “I don’t know what to do about you.”
Bianca swallowed down her fear as he stood still, gazing down at her. She wasn’t physically afraid. She’d never been safer than she was in this moment. But her heart hammered in her chest. What would he say?
Likely he’d tell her there was nothing to be done.
Or perhaps he’d chastise her for hoping even after what he’d said last night.
But he didn’t do either of those things. Instead, he sighed. “I don’t know what to do about you either.”
Her fingers tightened around his neck as hope filled her stomach, making it bounce as they began moving again. “Where does that leave us?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I know I’m not putting you down now, so how do we get you home without being seen?”
“Turn left just up there.” She pointed to a little alley. “We can avoid the square
that way.”
He gave a tight jerk of his chin as he picked up speed and entered the alley, skirting several homes until they reached the path that led to the manor.
The air cooled as they entered the tall vegetation and Bianca pressed a bit closer to Chris. She wasn’t cold, she just liked being near him. Laying her cheek on his shoulder, she drew in a whiff of his fresh, clean sandalwood scent. “You’ll have to stay for a while, you know.”
He slowed his pace, looking down at her again. “Why’s that?”
“What if Fred tries to seek revenge again?” His attack had frightened her more than she cared to admit. His body pressed to hers had made her skin crawl, his rank breath turning her stomach.
He closed his eyes. “Has it occurred to you that you should be more frightened of me than him?”
“No,” she said the single word loudly, clearly, wanting him to understand that she meant it with all her heart. “I know you and I know you’d never hurt me.” She slid one hand from around his neck to press to his cheek, turning his face toward hers. “Do you believe me?”
His mouth twisted into a frown. “I don’t know.” Chris pressed his forehead to hers. “I want to Bianca. You have to know that I want to keep you forever and never let you go.”
Her breath stuttered and she tilted her chin up to capture his lips with her own. “I want to keep you forever too.”
Chris cut off the trail into a small grove of pines. They were short and scrubby as many were along the coast, but they provided a small shelter from the path, hiding them from view.
He didn’t even bother to set her down as he captured her lips again, dropping to his knees. She was still cradled to his chest as he took her lips again, slanting her mouth open as he traced her lips and then explored deeper. He swallowed her groan of pleasure as their tongues danced together. She ran her hands along his back and then into his hair, wanting to touch every inch of his body.
Chris lay her down on a bed of pine needles, his body half on top of hers as he continued to kiss her. One arm supported her weight around her back while the other ran up and down her side, cupping her breast, skimming her neck, running along the flat of her stomach. She itched to feel his skin again, the way she had last night, and she pulled his shirt up and over his head.
Once his chest was bare, she caressed every inch of his skin, feeling the dips and valleys until they both panted for breath.
Chris undid several buttons on the back of her dress, pulling the fabric down until only her chemise covered her breasts. Tugging the white linen aside, he kissed a trail down her neck until he slid one of her nipples into his mouth. Pleasure burst inside her, curling through her middle and settling between her legs.
She tugged at his hair, wanting more from him as he sucked harder, cupping the flesh until he shifted to the other side.
The pleasure increased until she thought she might not be able to stand another second. She pulled at his hair, her body writhing restlessly. He looked up at her, a wicked grin curling her lips. “Do you need something, sweetheart?”
She pulled harder. “It almost hurts, it feels so good.”
He slid a hand down her dress and up under her skirts. Being warm and walking as she did, Bianca kept her underskirts light, and her pantaloons a thin gauzy material. Chris slid down her body, untying her skirts and pulling the layers along with the pantaloons down her legs. “Don’t worry, my love. I know just how to make you feel better.”
She ran her hands along his bare shoulders absolutely certain that he did even if she didn’t have a clue.
He was pushing up her skirts and as the air hit her thighs, his fingers brushed against the curls between her legs.
She gasped and bucked against his touch even as his fingers made another light pass. “So soft,” he murmured against her chest. “Just lovely.”
He brushed again with a bit more pressure and she pushed into his hand, wanting more. He gently parted her curls and then touched her more fully, a moan ripping from her lips.
“Shhh,” he murmured, kissing her all along her chest. “Do you like that, my sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she hissed as he started a rhythmic movement that stole her breath. “Chris.” His name came out as a plea. There were so many things she wanted to beg him for. More of his hand, more of his body, more time, and all of his heart.
Chapter Thirteen
Chris squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think, see, or feel anything other than her silky flesh beneath the tips of his fingers.
He’d braced one arm underneath her to keep her off the ground as much as he could, sliding his hand up her back and into her hair, cradling her skull.
Her fingers dug into his back as he increased the tempo of his touch. He moved up her body so that her mouth was just next to his ear. The sound of her breathing making him ache with desire and satisfaction.
She’d told him he’d have to stay and keep her safe. Did she have any notion how much he wanted that? He’d like nothing more than to stay by her side forever. Was that best for her? He wasn’t certain.
But he did know one thing, it would do her no good to leave her here all alone and allow Fred to hurt her.
She made one of those soft moaning cries, the sort that told him she was close to her finish. Her face buried into his neck, her breath warm against his flesh. He kissed her temple wishing to stay locked together like this forever.
She came undone, her legs spasming as her arms locked about his back. Chris cradled her against him peppering her face with kisses. He knew he shouldn’t keep her but he didn’t think he could let her go either.
“Chris,” her voice trembled as she burrowed deeper into him. “I…” She stopped swallowing. “What do we do now?”
He drew in a deep breath as he rolled them both over, his back hitting the ground, even as he settled her on his chest. “We lie here, sweetheart, and enjoy the sunshine filtering through the trees.”
“Hmmm,” she murmured snuggling against his chest. “That isn’t exactly what I meant.”
“I know,” he answered as he began to stroke down her back along her spine. “But it’s the only answer I have at this moment.”
“Fair enough.” She lightly massaged his chest.
Desire still raged through him but he was content to just lie here with her on his chest. In fact, he couldn’t ever remember feeling so relaxed.
Bianca lifted her head. “Are you still coming to dinner tonight?”
“Yes.” He cupped her cheek. “I want to thank your father for his hospitality.”
Her lips parted and her eyebrows raised. “That’s why you’re coming to dinner. For my father?”
Her voice rose with every word and belatedly he realized his mistake. He flattened his hand on her back, pressing them closer together. “Bianca.” Chris drew in a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. “I don’t know where we’re going but I do know that I need to make a friend of your father if we ever hope to get there.”
“Oh.” She relaxed against him, laying her head back down and he nearly sighed with relief.
And then he realized that his every feeling was tied to hers. He only relaxed when she did. He hurt when she hurt, he sang with joy when she was happy. Damn.
They lay there for several more minutes before he finally lifted them both up. Bianca had pine needles sticking out from her hair and on her dress, and several articles of her clothing were strewn about the ground. He smiled in satisfaction as he began to put her back together.
“Must we go already?” she asked, pulling several more needles from her hair.
“I’m afraid so,” he answered, wanting nothing more than to lie back down. “We don’t want to arouse suspicion.” He pulled her against his chest and gave her a long hard kiss. “But I will see you tonight.”
She nodded and they stepped from the glen, making their way back up the path. Just behind the barn he gave her a kiss goodbye, peeking around the edge to make certain she entered the house. Then h
e turned back to return to the village. He missed the feel of her against him already. Tonight couldn’t come quickly enough.
Bianca tapped her toe as she sat on the settee waiting to welcome their guests. Not that she cared about Crestwood or Dashlane in the least.
Her father stood, participating in one of his favorite pastimes, reciting Shakespeare. He loved the playwright and poet so much he’d named them all after various characters from the plays.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
As her father finished, Bianca looked to the doorway to see the three men standing patiently waiting.
She met Chris’s eyes and lifted her hand to her throat as she held her breath.
“Good evening,” Mr. Moorish’s voice boomed across the room, a deep lyrical baritone. “So good of you gentleman to come.”
Juliet stepped forward, waving to Dashlane who grimaced but moved forward just as Crestwood came to Adrianna’s side. Bianca watched as Adrianna slipped her hand into the man’s arm and they began to circle the room. Her lips parted as her eyes widened in surprise. How serious were Lord Crestwood and her sister?
But she didn’t think on it further as Chris stepped close to her side. “How are you?”
She looked up into his dark eyes, tinged with concern as they crinkled at the corners. “Wonderful and terrible, depending on the exact second you ask me.”
Romancing the Rake: Seven Regency Romances Page 26
