One Wanton Wager

by Amanda Mariel

  “And what of you?” Mr. Barkley asked.

  “I’d rather be in my room or spending time with Henry.”

  Mr. Barkley smiled as he led her through a line of dancers. “He is a fine lad. Rowland would be pleased.”

  Daphne’s gaze caught Alex’s and she frowned.

  “I’m sorry. I did not mean to cause you any discomfort.” Mr. Barkley pressed his lips together. “I should not have spoken of Rowland.”

  “Nonsense.” Daphne returned her focus to him. “I’m glad that Rowland is remembered, and that you keep Henry in your thoughts as well.” She fell silent, focusing on the dance steps.

  Mr. Barkley held his tongue as well, though he continued to watch her with sympathetic eyes. When the news of Rowland’s death reached them, Mr. Barkley had been among the first of their friends to arrive at the Chesterfields’ house. He’d stayed for a fortnight helping the family, spending time with Henry, and lending his sympathy. The look in his eyes now mirrored the one he’d bestowed upon her all those years ago.

  Not wanting him to be gloomy or regretful, she gave him what she hoped was a cheerful grin. “I’m truly not sad. Of course, I shall always miss Rowland, but it’s been more than three years. I remember our time together with fondness and love. I was blessed to have him for as long as I did.”

  Mr. Barkley inclined his head toward the couple dancing off to the left. “That gentleman has been watching you rather closely. Might he be the source of your discomfort?”

  Daphne cringed inwardly, then shook her head in vain denial.

  “Who is he?” Mr. Barkley openly stared at Alex and Phoebe.

  “That is Lord Bedford. Cousin to Sir Le Bec, my brother-in-law.” Daphne tried not to look at Alex but failed miserably.

  Mr. Barkley returned his gaze to Daphne. “Forgive my boldness, but is there something between the two of you? The way he looks at you, and just scowled at me…and I did not miss the lightness of your voice and softening of your eyes when you looked at him.”

  “No. Nothing at all,” she quickly answered.

  “Hum…” Mr. Barkley mumbled before twirling her once more, then leading her from the dance floor. “I would have wagered there was.”

  Daphne’s stomach fluttered, her body heating in embarrassment. Were the two of them so obvious? Who else had noticed their attraction?

  This wager of theirs had gone too far, indeed.

  Tomorrow, she would face Alex and put an end to their ill-formed bargain.

  Better yet, she would send him a note making her intentions clear. That way, she needn’t see him at all. She pressed her eyes closed for a heartbeat. Yes, a note would be best for she could not trust herself in his company.

  Mr. Barkley delivered Daphne to her next dance partner. Lord Smythe was a middle-aged man and a widower like her. He had a large estate and three older children. Daphne had him among her list of potential spouses and was rather looking forward to their dance. She’d have to do better to keep her mind and eyes off of Alex so that she did not scare the man away.

  “My lord.” She curtseyed.

  Lord Smythe gave her a warm smile. “I have been looking forward to our dance all evening.” He held out his arm. “Though I probably should not have revealed my eagerness.”

  She smiled back, actually feeling some measure of joy. Slipping her hand through the crook of his arm, she said, “Nonsense. I find your honesty refreshing. Furthermore, I have been looking forward to dancing with you as well.”

  Daphne caught Alex scowling at them as Lord Smythe took her into his arms.

  Chapter Nine

  Watching Daphne dance with man after man was pure torture. Alex had tried to ignore her, tried not to gawk at her and long for her presence—truly he had, but he could stand no more.

  With his mind made up and determination coursing through him, he strolled across the polished floor and tapped on the gentleman’s shoulder who now held her.

  The man turned a startled gaze on him. “My lord?”

  “May I?” Alex asked. But despite the question, he gave the man no opportunity to object as he pulled Daphne into his own arms.

  The man she’d been partnering with narrowed his eyes but did not make a fuss. He simply looked at her and nodded before walking away.

  She shot daggers at Alex. “Why ever did you do that?”

  “Because I wished to dance with you, of course.” He gave an unrepentant grin and pulled her closer. “Now, move your feet before you create a scene.”

  Daphne humphed and attempted to step out of his hold.

  Alex tightened his grip. “People are already taking notice.”

  She glanced around them at the crush of people—many people who were, indeed, watching them—then she eased into the dance. “You are an incorrigible rogue.”

  “I am a determined man who is quite taken with you.” He gave her a roguish grin, one full of promise.

  “Mores the pity,” she drawled, her voice full of feigned indifference.

  Alex pulled her scandalously close, bringing his mouth to her ear. “I beg to differ.”

  Color bloomed across her cheeks and neck, but she said nothing else as he led her through the dance.

  Alex wanted—no needed—more. No matter how close he held her, it wasn’t close enough. He drew in deep lungfuls of her scent but craved more. Trailed his hand blatantly over her spine and craved to feel her curves. He had to be alone with her. To kiss her, touch her, absorb all he could of her.

  When the waltz drew to an end, he kept hold of her, his thumb stroking the small of her back. “Come with me.”

  “Are you mad?” She peered at him.

  “I need to be alone with you.” He gave a gentle tug. “Walk with me.”

  She tossed a glance around the room. “No.”

  “I am not letting go. If you continue to refuse, I will stand here holding you for the rest of the night.” He stared deep into her anger-filled eyes. “I need you.”

  Daphne’s expression softened for an instant and she allowed him to lead her toward the exit. Halfway there, she dug in her heels. “We cannot. You have to stop this.”

  “We can and we are.” He attempted to take another step, but she refused. “I will pick you up and carry you out if I have to.”

  She must have believed him for she began walking, and rightly so, because his words were no jest. He was a desperate man, capable of nearly anything if it meant he would be able to kiss her, hold her, touch her.

  He drew her into a parlor where a low fire burned in the hearth and a lantern sat glowing on a table, then closed the door behind them.

  Daphne reeled on him, her gaze full of fire and fury. “How dare you!”

  “How dare I, indeed.” Alex paced to her, his lips finding hers and cutting off anything else she might have said.

  A heartbeat later, her arms were around his neck, her lips taking as much as he gave, then returning his kiss with equal fervor.

  She melted against him, a low moan escaping from her lush lips. Alex scooped her into his arms and carried her to a chaise. Lowering her to the velvet-covered surface, he came down on top of her. His lips quickly found hers as he trailed his hands over her body.

  She wriggled beneath him, her legs parted to cradle his hips as she pulled him ever closer. His need grew more with every second that passed between them.

  He skimmed his hands up the length of her legs to her thighs, pushing her gown to her waist. “I need you.”

  In a heated frenzy, she reached for his jacket, wrenching it from his shoulders before starting to work at his waistcoat. “I need you, too,” she said, her voice husky.

  Alex trailed kisses across her cheek, down the column of her throat, pausing at the point where her pulse beat a mad tattoo to suckle and nip.

  Daphne moaned, “Alex, oh.”

  He continued to her chest, sprinkling kisses over the bulge of her full breasts as he worked to free them from the low-cut silk holding them captive.

  Sh
e ground against him, moaning and gasping as she tugged at his shirt. Finding success, she trailed her own set of hot kisses over his skin, leaving a wake of scorched flesh behind.

  He freed her breasts, then took a moment to admire them as he kneaded the silky mounds. Her nipples were taut with need. Two perfect rose-hued peaks begged him to worship them. Alex lowered his head, taking one nipple into his mouth. He sucked and lapped at it until she became breathless all over again, then moved to do the same to the other.

  She tugged him back to her mouth. Her kiss desperate, hungry, as she trailed her hands over his chest and shoulders.

  He slid his hand between them, finding the apex of her thighs to tease the tight nub concealed there.

  Her breath hitched and she ground against him, begging for more. Her hands clutching his shoulders.

  He teased her opening, then slid one finger deep into her core. His cock twitched as her inner muscles pulsed and clenched around his finger. He needed to be inside her, buried deep in her warmth and sweetness.

  She dug her fingernails into his flesh and rocked against him as he found her lips, kissing her deeply. His tongue lathed against hers, their lips brushing and tugging at each other’s as he worked his finger in and out of her.

  Her flesh clutched at him, her moans driving him into a fevered frenzy. “Alex…Alex…more,” she said in a breathless plea.

  He stilled and pulled back to stare down at her. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded and pulled at the waist of his trousers, leaving no doubt as to what she wanted. “Please,” she said, her voice shaking.

  He stood then discarded his boots and trousers more quickly than he’d ever done before. Returning to her side, he pulled her into a sitting position, then kissed her with full abandon as he loosened then slipped her dress and chemise over her head.

  In another instant, he was hovering over her. She took hold of his cock and positioned it at her opening. Need thrummed through him, tightening his muscles and testing his resolve. Needing no further invitation, he pressed into her. Her body was squeezing and clutching at him.

  He began to pump in and out of her, his passion continuing to grow.

  She arched, urging him deeper, pulling him closer. Her hips moved in a rhythm matching his own as she moaned and gasped beneath him. Then when he thought he could stand no more, she came apart in his arms. His name drifted from deep within her to fill the space around them as her body shuddered around him.

  He pressed into her one more time, finding his own release.

  Alex took her lips in a long lazy kiss before rolling them over so that his back rested against the chaise, her body half-covering his. He took a tendril of her hair into his hand and twirled it around his fingers. She was perfect—more than he could have imagined. So sweet and, yet, so full of passion and brazen desire.

  How would he ever be able to let her go?

  Chapter Ten

  Daphne sighed against his chest, nestling her head into the dark thatch of hair sprinkled over his skin. She was utterly sated, her body like a wet rag, heart pounding and limbs tingling. She did not believe lovemaking had ever been so—satisfying.

  Her eyes drifted closed as she listened to the patter of Alex’s heart. Tomorrow she would likely regret her actions. For now, she would bask in the aftermath of what they had shared.

  “I went to Manchester yesterday.” He stroked his hand over the crown of her head to massage the back of her neck. “There is an account in your name with ample funds for Henry’s education.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “But, our wager…”

  His eyes narrowed, a frown creasing his brow and she instantly regretted speaking the words. She did not wish to think of their time together as a simple bet. It was ugliness amidst the beauty they had just shared—still engaged in.

  “I don’t give a damn about the wager.” He guided her head back to his chest. “I want to see Henry’s future secured and I do not want you to fret over it.”

  Tears welled in the backs of her eyes as her heart swelled. “You shouldn’t have. We are not your concern.” She would have to return the funds at once. It would be wrong to keep them. More so, to keep them would mean she’d sold herself to Alex.

  The act would tarnish every moment they’d spent together.

  “You will keep the money,” he said in a firm tone.

  Daphne had no wish to argue with him, so she simply snuggled closer. Regardless of how she felt about what he’d done, she believed his heart was in the right place. She’d not fault him for trying to ensure Henry’s future.

  She marveled at what a wonderful surprise Alex had turned out to be and wondered at why he’d never married. This kindhearted, giving, good-humored man should have been brought to heel years ago. Curiosity overwhelming her, and she asked, “Have you ever been in love?”

  His body stiffened beneath her weight, then seemed to relax. He released a breath, taking a strand of her hair back into his fingers.

  She waited for him to reply, not daring to speak another word. The silence stretched out before them somehow making the parlor darker, more foreboding.

  Just when she thought he would say nothing, he whispered a single word, “Once.”

  Daphne knew she should not press the topic but could not stay her tongue. “What happened?”

  He methodically twirled her curl around his finger as she waited with bated breath.

  “It was a long time ago.” He rested his head back, tilting his chin toward the ceiling.

  “And,” she asked, encouraging him.

  He released a deep breath, his chest heaving and flattening beneath her cheek. “The lady jilted me for another.”

  Daphne slid one hand up to rest on his cheek and gazed into his eyes. The green of his irises had turned icy—not at all what she’d expected. He must still carry pain and resentment in his heart. She dropped a kiss to his chiseled jaw, then returned her gaze to his. “I’m sorry. She must have been a fool.”

  “In the end, it was I who looked the fool.”

  At a loss for words, Daphne settled back against his warm body. She wondered at why the lady had cast him aside. Had he given her cause? Was he a rake even then? Or had the woman’s actions turned him callous? She feathered her fingers over his chest as she contemplated.

  “Did you love your husband?”

  Her breath caught, the question taking her by surprise. Of course, she had, she’d not have married Rowland otherwise. But then, how would Alex know that? Not all marriages were based on love. “Very much,” she said against his chest.

  “Is that why you haven’t remarried?” Alex stroked her back as he spoke.

  “Yes. No. Partly.” She drew in a shaky breath. “He wished for me to remarry. Made me promise I would if he died at war. I just haven’t met another who…” Her words trailed off, the room growing quiet once more.

  Alex drew small, lazy circles over her bare skin. “He must have loved you a great deal to be so selfless. I’m not sure I could do the same.”

  Guilt rose up in Daphne at the memories of her beloved, but a raw desire for Alex remained as well. She did not wish to think on any of it—not now.

  Let tomorrow be for regrets, tonight she would take what she wanted, embrace distraction, and allow herself to feel alive.

  Casting morality and good judgment aside for the second time that evening, Daphne moved to straddle Alex. She bent down, pressing her lips to his as she slid down on his cock. He grasped her hips, letting loose a guttural moan, and she began to rock her hips with wild abandon, soon forgetting everything save for the passion building between them.

  Chapter Eleven

  In the wee hours of the morning, Daphne snuck from the parlor, leaving a satisfied and snoring Alex behind. She’d returned to her room, bathed and dressed before the sun crested the horizon. By mid-afternoon, she had been to Manchester, closed the account Alex opened in her name and returned home.

  Now she sat at her writing desk, at
tempting to find the correct words to convey her jumbled thoughts. She had no wish to bring hurt upon Alex and was exceedingly grateful for what he’d tried to do for her and Henry. Still, she could not accept his generosity. Certainly not now that she’d come to care for him.

  She shook her head, recognizing the understatement in that particular thought. What she felt for him ran far deeper than caring. She’d been fool enough to fall in love with him. The very thing she’d feared and determined to avoid. There was nothing for it now.

  He owned her heart and she could not simply demand it back. All she could do was set him free and hope, that in time, her heart would heal.

  She crumbled the parchment she’d been writing on into her fist, then tossed it into the wastebasket. That had been her second attempt and the words still rang hollow and harsh.

  A fresh tear pricked her right eye and she dashed it away before taking pen to paper once more.

  My dearest Lord Bedford,

  Your kindness and generosity where Henry is concerned warms my heart. Though I must insist upon returning your astonishing gift, I will always be grateful for what you did. In addition to returning the funds, I must also insist upon ending our wager, as well as our association once and for all.

  Though I shall always look upon the moments we shared with fondness, I must recognize the fruitlessness of it all. There is no future for us.

  We have been courting ruin and cannot expect our luck to continue. I’d not wish to trap you, any more than I’d wish to damage my own reputation. Don’t you see that neither of us can win? It is best for us to put these weeks behind us and move on with our lives.

  Fondly,

  D

  She read back over the note, her heart squeezing more with every word. However, her resolve did not weaken. Alex would never marry her—certainly not willingly—and she’d not wish to spend the remainder of her life as unwanted baggage.

  Just as importantly, she’d not put Henry or Alex in such a situation.

  Daphne folded the parchment, then sealed it before ringing for a footman. When one appeared, she shoved the letter into his hands as though it were burning her. “Deliver this to Lord Bedford straightaway. He can be found at Babylon.”