Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] (13 page)

With a groan, he slipped one hand into her soft hair and the other around her waist, pressing her closer while his tongue explored the velvety sweetness of her mouth. Urgency pumped through him, overwhelming him with need, a need that multiplied when she rubbed her tongue against his, tentatively at first, then with a responsiveness that shaved away another layer of his rapidly vanishing control.

Bloody hell, he wanted to simply devour her. A searing, raw desperation unlike anything he’d ever experienced gripped him, forcing him to battle back the overpowering urge to unceremoniously lift her skirts and bury himself inside her—a humbling, confusing reaction as he’d always considered himself in command of his actions. His reactions. And certainly a man of some finesse. But with a single kiss, she stripped away his control, leaving him all but trembling, burning with a desire, a lust, unlike anything he’d ever before known, and one he wasn’t certain how long he’d be able to contain.

Still, he couldn’t stop…not yet. Not while his fingers still explored the silk of her hair. Not while the captivating scent of oranges rose from her skin. Not
while her enticing mouth fitted so perfectly against his.

Closer…damn it, he needed her closer. Now. Without breaking their kiss, he lifted her, settling her across his lap. A deep groan vibrated in his throat when her curves settled against him, her hip pressing against his erection. He spread his legs, hoping to relieve the throbbing ache, but the movement only served to inflame him more.

All concept of time and place fled, leaving only hot want and desperate, clawing need in its wake. Mindless, his fingers plucked the pins from her hair, tossing them carelessly onto the carriage floor. He sifted his fingers through the long, silky skeins, releasing the faint scent of oranges as the locks fell down her back and over her shoulders to envelop them in a silken cloud of fragrant curls.

She moaned and shifted against him, her hip sliding against his straining erection, and another groan rose in his throat. Bloody hell. He felt as if he were unraveling. At a frantic pace that gained momentum with each passing second.

A small voice of reason worked its way through the fog of lust engulfing him, warning him to slow down, to cease this madness, but he shoved the admonition aside, and instead ran one hand down her back to her buttocks, pressing her more firmly against him, while his other hand explored the satiny length of her neck. His fingers skimmed over the delicate hollow of her throat, then dipped lower to explore the swells of her breasts where they met the material of her gown. Soft…she was so incredibly soft. And damn it, he was so incredibly hard, and he wanted her so very badly—

The carriage jerked to a jarring halt, jolting him from his sensual haze. He slowly lifted his head and looked at her. And bit back a groan. With her eyes closed, shallow breaths coming from between her parted lips, moist and
swollen from his kiss, and her hair in complete disarray from his impatient hands, she looked wanton and aroused and more desirable than any woman he’d ever seen. His gaze dipped lower, riveting on the sight of his hand resting on her chest. Slowly he splayed his fingers, captivated by how dark and rough his skin looked against the pale delicateness of hers. Her heartbeat thumped, hard and frantic against his palm, a rhythm that matched his own.

His gaze wandered slowly back up to her face, roaming over each imperfect feature that somehow looked so…perfect. Unable to stop himself from touching her, his fingers, still not quite steady, followed the same path as his gaze, brushing along her jaw, over her smooth cheeks, down the short slope of her nose, then tracing the lush shape of her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered open, and he found himself looking directly into her dazed eyes.

Desire speared him low and hard, along with something else that felt suspiciously like possessiveness. Something that whispered
this woman belongs to me
through his mind. She lifted her hand from where it rested on his chest and slowly, hesitantly, feathered her fingertips over his forehead, brushing back a stray lock of hair. The simple gesture, combined with the look of utter wonder glowing in her eyes, made his heart roll over.

Taking her hand, he pressed a quick kiss against her gloved palm. “We’ve arrived.”

She blinked several times, then, as if a bucket of cold water had been tossed on her, she shot upright, a look of sheer panic filling her eyes. “Oh, dear. I…oh, what have I done?” She pushed away from him, then her hands flew to her hair, which tumbled over her shoulders. She began frantically looking about, clearly for her hairpins, and he grasped her hands.

“Calm yourself,” he said gently. “I’ll help you gather
your hairpins.” But before he could do so, she snatched her hands from his as if he’d burned her and grabbed her reticule.

“I must go,” she said, reaching for the door.

“Wait,” he said, stilling her hand.

She turned to him, her eyes filled with distress and unmistakable anger. Whether that anger was directed toward herself or him, or both of them, he didn’t know. “Wait? For what, my lord? So I can further shame myself?”

“You’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.”

A bitter sound passed her lips. “Haven’t I? Haven’t we both?”

“I don’t see how.”

She lifted her chin. “Are you in the habit of passionately kissing married women?”

“No. I’ve never kissed a married woman.” His gaze probed hers, willing her to tell him he still hadn’t. When she remained silent, he added, “Are you in the habit of passionately kissing other men?”

A stricken look filled her eyes, then her gaze hardened. “No. I…I never have. I don’t know what came over me. I only know it will not, cannot happen again. I beg your most sincere pardon. I intend to forget this ever happened, and I suggest you do the same.”

Without another word, she jerked open the carriage door, then exited as if pursued by the devil. As he had last night, he waited for her to round the corner, then left the coach, instructing his coachman to return to the town house. He followed her through the dark streets, wincing at the pain pulling in his thigh at keeping up with her swift pace. After making certain she arrived at her building, he stood in the shadows, watching the window of the third room on the second floor. Less than a minute later he saw the glow of a candle flare, and he knew she was safe.

He watched for several more minutes, then was about to depart when he sensed he was being observed. He quickly retrieved his knife from his boot. Palming the blade, his gaze swept the area, but he noted nothing out of the ordinary. The sensation faded and his instincts told him that whoever had been silently watching him was gone. Still palming his blade, senses on alert, he walked quickly home.

He arrived at his town house without incident, and the minute he closed the door behind him, he leaned back against the oak panel and rubbed his aching thigh while her words echoed in his ears.
I intend to forget this ever happened, and I suggest you do the same…it will not, cannot happen again
.

He was no fortune-teller, but he knew she was wrong in every respect. She wouldn’t forget that kiss any more than he would. Bloody hell, he now knew what it felt like to be struck by lightning. The taste and feel of her was permanently imprinted in his mind, as was her response to him. And as unwise as it might be, it most certainly would happen again.

He intended to see to it.

The walked slowly toward him, her footfalls
silenced by the thick Axminster rug in his bedchamber, her hips swaying with a sinuous rhythm that quickened his breath and riveted him in place. Her expression was no longer unreadable, and there was no mistaking her intent. Dark eyes the color of melted chocolate glittered with a wickedly sensual light, and a siren’s half
smile touched the corners of her plump lips. Her filmy aqua dressing gown floated around her—a shimmering silk column edged with ivory lace that provided teasing hints of the luscious curves beneath with every step. Her hair fell over her shoulders and down her back to her waist, a shiny waterfall of thick, shiny dark curls.

She halted when less than an arm’s length separated them. Reaching out, she settled her hands on his bare chest, dragging a low groan of pleasure from him.

“Alexandra…”

He tried to reach for her, but it felt as if a weight sat upon him, and he couldn’t move. With a seductive smile, she rose on her toes and lifted her face and…

Licked his cheek.

Frustrated, he tried again to move, desperate to touch her, kiss her, but his shoulders were held immobile by invisible hands. She rewarded him with another wet lick on the cheek. Clearly she required a few lessons in the art of kissing. His entire face was wet and by God, slimy as well—

With a groan, he opened his eyes. And found himself staring up into a black, jowly muzzle and wide-set dark brown eyes.

“What the hell—?” His words were cut off by the swipe of a large, wet, canine tongue across his chin.

“Blech!”
He grimaced and tried to lift his arm to wipe his face, but the weight of the monstrous dog lying across his chest rendered him immobile. Paws the size of plates held his shoulders pinned to the bed.

Recognition hit him, and he narrowed his eyes, then shifted his head on the pillow to avoid another enthusiastic doggie kiss. Instead, he was pelted with a barrage of hot doggie breath followed by a deep, gravelly
woof
.

“B.C.,” he muttered, glaring at Nathan’s mastiff, who could easily be dubbed the Largest Dog in the Kingdom. “How the bloody hell did you get in here?”

“He came in with me,” came Nathan’s deep, familiar voice near the window. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s ecstatic to see you.”

Colin turned his head—the only part of his upper body he could move—and blinked at the bright sunlight pouring in through the window. The initial wave of happiness at seeing his brother was severely curtailed by the lung-crushing load pinning him to the mattress.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he said through gritted teeth, “this beast weighs at least twelve stone.” His words were rewarded with another swipe of canine tongue against his neck. He swiveled his attention back to B.C. and glowered. “Stop that!” B.C. shot him a reproachful look, then appeared to grin at him.

“Fourteen stone, actually,” Nathan said.

Another doggie kiss dampened Colin’s jaw. “Devil take it, stop that!” With a mighty heave, he managed to roll from beneath the dog’s crushing weight and sit up. He then transferred his glower to his brother. “His breath is not exactly flower fresh, you know. What on earth are you feeding him?”

“His last snack was that boot,” Nathan said, nodding toward the desk.

Colin followed his brother’s gaze, and his jaw tightened at the sight of the mangled leather. “Those were my favorite pair.”

“Not to worry, he only nibbled on one of them.”

“How bloody delightful.”

“You’ll recall that B.C. does stand for ‘Boot Chewer.’”

“I’m not likely to forget, seeing the souvenir he left of my new Hessian.”

Nathan pushed off from the windowsill, where he’d rested his hips, and approached the bed. “About time you woke up. I wrote in my letter that I planned to arrive today, and I’ve been waiting for half an hour.”

“Did it not occur to you to wait in the drawing room?”

“My, my, I’d forgotten how grumpy you are when you first awaken.”

“I’m not grumpy, I’m…surprised. And slathered with wet doggie boot-scented slime.” He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two o’clock. Makes one wonder what you were doing last night to exhaust yourself so.” Nathan grinned. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Colin tried to maintain his scowl, but couldn’t quite pull it off. “Actually I am. I just would have been happier to see you about an hour from now. When I was awake. And coherent. And dressed.” After snatching his silk robe from the end of the bed—barely avoiding another swipe of B.C.’s tongue—he shrugged into the garment, tied the sash, then rose. Holding out his hand, he said, “Good to see you, brother.”

Nathan clasped his hand, and for several seconds Colin stared into his brother’s eyes while an unstoppable wealth of emotion swamped him. In spite of their different interests, they’d always been close growing up, a bond that had grown even stronger when they’d taken on the hazardous duty of spying on the French for the Crown. Or had grown stronger until Colin had made a terrible mistake and nearly lost Nathan.

The same guilt and remorse that struck Colin every time he thought of it hit him now, followed first by a swell of gratitude that Nathan had forgiven him for believing he’d betray his country, then by the shame he still experienced because Nathan had never doubted
him
—even when he’d had good reason to. No, unlike him, when his trustworthiness had come into question, Nathan’s faith in him had been absolute. Unwavering. Unconditional.

Colin had always considered himself an intelligent man. A man of honor, integrity, and loyalty. But on
that horrible night four years ago, the night he’d been shot, those qualities upon which he most prided himself had been put to the test, and he’d failed every one of them. Nine months ago, Nathan had returned to Cornwall for the first time since that night, giving Colin the chance to mend their fractured relationship. Even though Colin had atoned for his mistake, and they’d repaired the rift, part of him still didn’t feel as if he’d done enough. Didn’t feel as if he were worthy and deserving of his brother’s forgiveness. One thing was for certain—he had no intention of ever repeating that mistake.

They both moved at the same time, pulling each other into a back-thumping embrace. He blinked several times to rid his eyes of the inexplicable moisture gathering there. By God, he needed to inform Ellis that his bedchamber needed a good airing. Damn it, he could barely swallow for all the dust clogging his throat.

When they stepped apart, Colin studied his brother—who appeared equally affected by the dust—for several seconds. Then he cleared his throat and, in an attempt to lighten the emotion-tinged air, grinned. “Anyone would think that you’d missed me.”

In a blink, the old camaraderie between them returned, as if only seven minutes rather than seven months had past since they’d last seen each other.

Nathan shrugged. “Perhaps a bit.”

“You look happy,” he said.

“I am. A condition I entirely blame on Victoria.”

“Clearly married life agrees with you.”

An expression filled Nathan’s eyes that Colin could only call besotted. His chest tightened with a combination of happiness and envy for his brother.

“Very much,” Nathan agreed. His gaze flicked over Colin in an assessing way that made Colin feel like one of his brother’s medical patients. “
You
look…tired.”

“Why, thank you,” he said dryly. “Perhaps because I was sound asleep a mere thirty seconds ago.” A familiar scent caught his attention, and he sniffed the air just as his stomach rumbled in response. His glance shifted to the oval cherrywood table near the window where Nathan had stood and noted the china cup and plate. Nathan followed his gaze, then said, “I brought you a cup of chocolate and a plate of biscuits.”

Colin walked to the table and stared into the cup, which held only the dregs of a dark beverage, then at the half dozen pale crumbs dotting the royal blue Sèvres plate. Blast. Some things never changed between brothers. “So I see. No doubt I’d thank you if you’d actually managed to save me a bit of either.”

“You could have enjoyed both had you actually been awake.” With an unrepentant grin, Nathan pinched one of the tiny crumbs between his fingers and popped it into his mouth. “Don’t forget that famous saying Cook taught us as children: He who snoozes always loses.”

“Apparently,” Colin muttered darkly. “Which makes me greatly anticipate the time when you next doze off. I suggest you sleep with one eye open.”

Nathan muttered something that sounded less than complimentary, then said, “As you showed no signs of rousing, and the chocolate was getting cold, I felt it my duty to make certain Cook’s hard work did not go to waste. You know how dutiful I am.”

“Yes, you are nothing if not full of duty.”

“And naturally one cannot properly enjoy chocolate without dunking biscuits—which were fresh from the oven, by the way.” He circled his hand over his stomach and made exaggerated
mmmmmming
noises. “They were
delicious
. I’d intended to save you the last one, but you’ll be glad to know I gave it to B.C.”

“And why would I be glad to know that?”

“Because the biscuit is the only thing that kept him from gnawing on your other boot.”

“Excellent. Because
one
ungnawed boot is very useful to me. Why did it not occur to you to give him the biscuit
before
he made a snack of the first boot?”

“I was occupied.”

“Oh? Doing what—besides drinking my chocolate and eating my biscuits?”

“Listening to you.” Nathan smiled. “Who is Alexandra?”

Colin’s insides tensed, but after years of practice he had no trouble keeping his features impassive. “I’ve no idea.” Which was true. He didn’t
really
know who she was. Yet.

Nathan raised one brow. “Surely you must as she inspired quite the lusty moan in you.” He clasped his hands to his chest in a dramatic gesture and batted his eyes. “Alexaaaandraaaaa,” he cooed in a falsetto voice.

Good God, had he actually believed he’d missed his irritating younger brother? “I’m certain I was merely snoring,” he said in a frosty tone. “Or perhaps the noise came from your dog. Who was destroying my boot.”

B.C. made a snuffling noise from the bed, where he reclined across the counterpane in all his enormous canine glory. He met Colin’s gaze and licked his chops, and inexplicably Colin was hard-pressed not to smile. Then he sighed. The dog was a hazard to footwear, but he was undeniably lovable. Not that he’d ever admit that to Nathan. God no. If he did, he’d find himself saddled with a dozen boot-chewing puppies.

“No, it was you,” Nathan insisted. “Maybe you weren’t snoring, but you certainly were dead to the world. Late night?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Because of Alexandra?”

An image of her looking aroused and thoroughly kissed flashed through his mind, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Knowing how observant Nathan was, he strode to his washbasin to cleanse away B.C.’s greeting. “Where is Victoria?” he asked, yanking a hand towel from the brass rod. He shot a pointed look at the door. “Surely your wife is missing your company. And your dog’s company as well.”

“Not at all,” Nathan said, blithely ignoring the hint. “Victoria is off to Bond Street with her father in tow. They’re shopping while his household is being polished to within an inch of its life in preparation for the upcoming party he’s hosting. As I mentioned in my note, Victoria plans to help him. Act as hostess. They’ve probably visited every millinery and jewel shop on Bond Street by now.” He pulled a comical face and shuddered. “Better him than me. Even watching you snore is preferable to a visit to the shops. And now that you’re finally awake, I cannot wait to find out what has precipitated this sudden desire for a wife—a quest, by the way, in which Victoria is determined to help.”

Colin lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “I’d hardly call it sudden. I’ve known my entire life that it is my duty to marry and produce an heir. I’d think you would be particularly glad that I’m finally getting around to it.”

“Oh, I am. It’s about time you decided to settle down and produce those heirs that guarantee the damn title won’t get foisted upon me should you kick off early.”

Yes, which unfortunately is exactly what my gut keeps warning me about
. Nathan was teasing, of course, but he’d unintentionally hit upon the truth—something he had an uncanny knack of doing. Colin briefly considered taking Nathan into his confidence right now, but discarded the idea as a case of poor timing. While he had
every intention of discussing his concerns with Nathan—who would understand better than anyone the need to listen to his gut—this was neither the time nor place, especially as he was now pressed for time due to sleeping so late.

“I suppose I’m just curious as to what prompted you finally to get your arse moving,” Nathan said. “Why now?”

“Why not now?”

“You’re answering a question with a question.”

“One of
your
annoying habits as I recall.”

“
And
you’re attempting to change the subject. So again, I ask—why now?” Nathan’s gaze searched his. “Are you all right?”

Colin raked back his hair with an impatient hand. “I’m fine. My decision was partially prompted by you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You and Father. Both basking in marital bliss. Made me realize I wasn’t getting any younger, and it was high time I saw to my duty.”