Authors: Samantha Forest
If it would distract him, she would talk. So she did. She told him of her upbringing. Her mother had died at an early age, and her father had raised her like a son. Although she married well, she never forgot his wish that she find a life of happiness rather than a life of security. Charlie Baker was hardly happiness.
“Did he hurt you?” Stuart asked softly.
The day had passed as they chatted, and she bent over the stove to heat some soup for dinner and shrugged. “Sometimes he was rougher than usual, but he often relied on the sting of his tongue rather than the strength of his hands.”
“I would kill any man who put his hands on you,” Stuart said evenly, and for a breath of a moment, she believed him.
They ate dinner while she continued to talk, and finally they lapsed into silence. “You’ve said nothing about yourself,” she noted.
He watched her intently. “My life is not nearly as interesting as yours.”
So he would not tell her any more. That was fine. Taking a deep breath, she faced him. She needed to get the mystery man out of her home. “Well, Mr. Windsor, you have eaten with a ravenous appetite, and you move around with little signs of pain. I see no reason that you can’t return home.”
“Very well. Perhaps you could check my wound once more before I leave,” he said softly.
It didn’t seem wise to be near him again, but she nodded her head. He stripped off his shirt, and she tried to ignore the increase of her heartbeat. His body was nothing short of magnificent, and she was used to the nakedness of an older and pudgier man. As she unwrapped his bandages, she stroked his skin. “Everything looks fine. You should keep an eye on it and see your doctor.”
Suddenly, his fingers were under her chin, and he was lifting her head. She barely had a second to register what he was doing before his lips sealed themselves on hers. Urgent. Hot. Breathtaking. She opened to him immediately and felt his tongue sweep in to devastate her.
Terrified of her body’s reaction to him, she broke free and stood. “Mr. Windsor, this is not a good idea. You’ve gained your strength quickly, but you should rest,” she said as he advanced quicker. Soon, his body was pressed up against hers.
“You mesmerize me,” he said huskily. “Bewitching red hair. You’ve spun a spell around me, and I cannot break free.”
Jackie knew that if she pushed him away, he would leave her. But if anyone was spinning spells, it was him. She didn’t want to break away from his gaze or his grasp. If anything, she wanted more.
Her past husband had been a terrible lover. She’d heard whispered in darkened corners of how amazing the act between a man and a woman could be, but Charlie never did more than grunt a few times and spill his seed. For one awful and powerful moment, she knew that Stuart could show her everything that she had missed out on.
And she ached in a way that she never had before. More than anything, she needed to find relief.
“Your skin is so soft and smooth,” he said as he bent his head and moved his lips down her neck. She sighed and rolled her head to give him access. As though in a trance, she moved her arms up so that she could touch him. Slowly, she smoothed her hands over the skin that she’d tried to survey clinically. He wasn’t a victim. He was all male. His raw power wrapped around her seductively, and she traced the lines of his muscles in wonder.
“More. Please let me see more,” he whispered as he fingered the strings of her bodice. She didn’t stop him, and soon the top of her dress fell open, and she spilled out. Immediately, his hands reached up to caress her naked nipples, and she moaned. The sensations alone were enough weaken her knees, and the dark secret place between her legs grew moist with desire.
“If you tell me to stop, I will,” he promised darkly. “I’d never hurt you. Tell me what you want. Please.”
This was her moment. She had already gone to far. She would tell him to stop, and this would be their secret.
But she couldn’t. “Please,” she begged softly. “Please don’t stop. I want you, Stuart. Show me everything.”
She’d never heard such a fierce growl, but it rumbled from his chest as he shoved her dress down her arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as the dress slid down her legs. Soon, she was naked and trembling in his arms.
He picked her up as though she weighed nothing more than a jug of milk, and carried her easily to the bed. Pressing his weight against her, he captured her lips again in a dizzying kiss.
“I’ve never wanted a woman the way that I want you. What have you done to me?” he asked as he moved down her body. She couldn’t even speak as his kisses traveled farther down her body.
“Wait? What are you doing?” she moaned in a panic as he spread her legs and bent his head.
He paused and stared at her. “Your husband never did this for you?”
“No. What are you going to do?” she whispered.
“Oh, my sweet Jackie. You are in for a treat.” And with a wicked grin, he bent his head and pressed his lips to her sex.
“God,” she cried out as the sensations sent shock waves through her system. Her skin flushed with pleasure as he dragged his lips and tongue over her. Things she never dreamt of saying escaped her mouth with a haggard breath as something magical built inside her. Soon, she was begging him to continue.
“Please, Stuart. Please,” she pleaded with him. She both wanted a release, and she wanted it never to end. Finally, he slid a tongue over her most sensitive spot, and she shattered with a hoarse cry.
Quickly, he climbed up and hooked his arms around her knees to bring them up. It opened her even further to his hardness, and he shucked his pants quickly. “More,” she begged as she clamped her damp legs around his waist.
“Jackie,” he bit off an oath as his body stilled. “You need some time to recuperate, or it will hurt. Just give it a minute.”
“No,” she growled. It surprised even her. “I don’t want a minute. Now. Take me now.”
“Hell,” he swore hoarsely as she arched her body against him. She felt his hardness sliding up and down her slit, but she needed him even deeper. “Ah, my sweet. I cannot deny you.”
And with that, he slowly prodded at her entrance.
It had been so long that she gasped as he began to stretch her. Inch my inch, he slid inside her, and she sank her teeth into his shoulders to muffle her scream of pleasure. “You have no idea how amazing you feel,” he groaned.
“More. Give me more.” He obliged her, and soon he was raking over her sweet spot inside. It had never been like this without anyone else, and she dug her nails into his skin.
“Stuart,” she whimpered. “What are you doing to me?”
“Everything. I would do everything to you,” he promised, and then he began to move. Bold and slow strokes, in and out, until they were both sweaty and shaky. She clung to him desperately and mewed like a kitten as he pulsed deep within her.
“I’m going to break,” she soon cried. “Oh, Stuart.”
“Just let go,” he muttered as he pressed his forehead to hers. His gaze burned into her, and when he reached up to tweak her nipple, she arched her back and cried out his name as she fell for the second time into chaos.
He wasn’t much longer behind her. Stiffening, he buried himself, anchored himself, and spilled his seed. Collapsing on top of her, he grew silent. She could not blame him. She had no breath for words.
The slipped into sleep, and it wasn’t until his hands began to work their magic again sometime in the middle of the night, that she woke. As he slid his fingers inside her, she gasped his name, and soon he once again possessing her body until all she could do was think of him.
* * *
The sun streamed through the window when a sharp rap woke her. She opened her eyes and gasped. She was still naked and twisted around the man she barely knew and yet now knew so well. Mortified, she hurriedly slipped her nightdress on. “Who is it?” she called through the door.
“It’s Dale, ma’am.”
Dale was one of the orphaned boys on the streets that often ran errands for some extra change. She hastily glanced over to see Stuart stretched from the bed. “Get dressed,” she hissed.
He obediently began putting his shirt and pants on, and she opened the door just a cracked and peered in. “What can I do for you, Dale?”
“Mistress Laney wanted to know if you’d like some fresh milk?” he held the jug up and smiled. He was such a cute boy, and Jackie always had problems telling him no. Most of the town did, which is why he always found work.
Reaching out, she grabbed the milk jug. “Wait right here while I fetch some coins.” Pushing the door shut, she turned to grab her coin purse.
“Your Grace!”
Whirling, Jackie was stunned to see that Dale had entered the apartment and was stuttering at the sight of Stuart.
“Your Grace?” she repeated in a panic. “Dale, Mr. Windsor was here to commission a dress, but it’s a secret. You mustn’t tell anyone, or it will spoil the surprise. Can you do that?”
“Is it for your lady friend, your Grace? For your bride?” Dale asked with a toothy grin.
Flushing with anger, Jackie pushed a coin in his hand. “That’s enough, Dale. No more. And remember, not one word. Do you understand me?”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.” He scurried down the stairs, and Jackie shut the door and rested her head on it. “So you’re a duke then.”
“Duke of Billington,” he said quietly.
“And you’re engaged?”
“Two months time. To Lady Mary Westin. Believe me Jackie, it’s not a match of love. It’s a match from the King.”
Jackie took a deep breath and faced him. “It’s Mrs. Baker. You don’t have a right to call me by my first name. Please gather your things and leave.”
“Jackie.”
“Now.” Her words came out like thunder, and he paled. Without another word, he gathered the rest of his clothes and moved to the door.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered before he slipped out. With a hand over her heart, she stared at the door. A duke. She’d lost her head over a stranger, and it had to be a member of the court.
And worse, she feared she’d lost more than just her head. Some time yesterday, she feared she’d lost her heart.
***
Stuart noticed Mary’s carriage waiting outside his home when his horses finally stopped. Wincing inwardly, he stepped from his own coach and waited. She flew from his door with rage on her face. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!”
Making a mental note to have a word with his staff about allowing her in his home when he wasn’t there, he gave her a small smile. “I apologize. I was taking care of some business. There was nothing for you to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about? Our wedding is only two months away, and there is still much to discuss. This will be the wedding of the century, and the groom disappears right in the middle of the planning!” she said hotly. “I demand to know where you have been.”
“You’ll mind your tongue, Ms. Westin,” Stuart said sharply. Her eyes widened, but he didn’t waver from his stance. Mary was a powerful and influential figure, and she wasn’t used to being told no. Her beauty stunned many men, but Stuart didn’t find her nearly as beautiful as he did annoying. He was the Duke of this region, and he wasn’t about to let Mary boss him around.
“Now then,” he said in a calmer tone. “When I say that I had business to attend to, you may rest assured that I found it far more important than this wedding. Neither of us is marrying for the first time, and I find this wedding much more tedious than my first. Do whatever you feel is necessary, and pray that you do not speak to me like that again.”
He’d indulged her with her freedoms up until this point, but he would protect the beautiful seamstress until the end. Startled by his protective nature of the woman, he narrowed his eyes at his betrothed and moved past her. “And until we are married, please do not reside at my home without my attendance.”
Married. Before it had just seemed like a small annoyance, but now it practically tore his heart out. He didn’t love Mary Westin. She had quite a bit going for her, and when she wasn’t in a temper, she amused him. But something was different. Something had changed, and he felt a noose tightening around his neck.
He went inside and loosened his cravat. His butler, John, immediately appeared and helped Stuart remove his coat. Stuart winced at the sharp pain that still lanced up his side. “Any news since I’ve been gone?”
“No, your grace. All has been quiet. At least until the Lady Westin arrived.”
Stuart shot John as amused look. The man had been with the house for nearly twenty years, and Stuart allowed him to speak freely. “The Lady Westin wasn’t quiet?”
John cast his eyes down and bowed his head. “She’s full of life, that one. Ah. Here she is now. Lady Westin, would you like me to prepare you some tea? I’m sure the Duke’s return has been quite exciting.”
It was difficult for Stuart not to snort as Mary stalked passed them both. His butler shot him a curious look, but Stuart only shrugged. Apparently that’s all it took to keep Mary quiet.
Finally more comfortable, he went into his study to review his messages. There were invitations from acquaintances, letters about the wedding from family, and a quick note from King Henry.