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Authors: Kat Martin

Creole Fires (30 page)

BOOK: Creole Fires
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“Nom de Dieu
, what do you need with a uniform?”

“M’sieur du Villier has commanded my presence day after tomorrow night. We shall see how happy he will be to escort his bond servant.”

“I do not think—”

“I know, and I agree, but I still want that uniform.”

Shaking her head and tittering behind her hand, Danielle set out to find something Nicki could wear. Up in the attic, she found a dismal black uniform that belonged to the former housekeeper. It was old and frayed, but clean; the apron worn, but not yellowed. To make it fit her, they shortened the hem, took in the
waist, and added a fichu of white piquet to increase the bustline.

“Perfect,” Nicki said when they’d finished, glancing at her reflection in the antique mirror she had purchased on her shopping excursion last week. In just seven days, the room was almost furnished, the bed resplendent with a new feather mattress, soft cotton sheets, and a lovely yellow quilt until the peach chintz counterpane could be finished.

Pulling back her hair, Nicki fastened it at the nape of her neck in a simple but severe style and settled a mobcap atop her head.

“What about
M’sieur le
Ram? Will he not object?”

“I don’t think Ram will interfere. He seems to find this whole affair amusing.”

By six o’clock, Nicki had cleaned and straightened the entire upstairs. When Alex arrived, she was working in the dining room on her hands and knees, busily polishing the parquet floors.

His deep voice in the entry brought the hint of a grin, and Nicki moved just a little to watch him through the crack in the door. Seeing him standing there so tall and handsome, she almost wished she had accepted his invitation. She tried not to notice how imposing he was, how broad his shoulders, the warmth in his dark-brown eyes. But the attempt failed miserably. Against her will, her heartbeat quickened and butterflies swirled in her stomach.

As Frederick took Alex’s black silk hat and satin-lined cape, his tailored black evening clothes glistened beneath the crystal chandelier.

“Tell Mademoiselle St. Claire I have come for her,” he told Frederick, who had to be fighting a grin of his own.

“Yes, sir.”

“Where’s Ram?” he asked, and Frederick pointed to the sitting room. Though she couldn’t quite see the big Turk, she knew he was in there. Probably so he wouldn’t miss the show.

Alex started toward his friend, then noticed Frederick heading down the hallway to the dining room instead of going upstairs as he expected.

“M’sieur du Villier is here for you,” the tall black butler said formally.

“Tell him I’m busy.”

Alex heard her reply and strode past Frederick into the dining room. Spotting her on the floor, clutching a dirty oil-covered rag, he sucked in a breath.

“Nom de Dieu!
What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”

“Polishing your floors, m’sieur,” she said sweetly, the oily rag gliding soundlessly across the already glistening wood.

Alex’s expression turned murderous. “Go upstairs and get dressed.”

“But I am dressed, m’sieur.”

“Nicki, I’m warning you. Get up off that floor and get out of those dismal clothes.”

“But I’ve so much work left to do—”

Alex crossed the room in three long strides. Sliding an arm around her waist, he jerked her to her feet. “Upstairs,” he commanded. “Now.”

“As you wish, m’sieur.” Hiding a satisfied grin, Nicki went upstairs. But she didn’t take off her clothes. Instead, she washed her hands, then removed her mobcap, and hung small diamond earbobs—a gift from
Grand-mère
—from each ear.
Grabbing her reticule and a black feathered fan, she headed back downstairs.

Alex stood in the salon, speaking to Ram.

“Enjoy yourself,” Alex said, clapping his friend on the back. “You more than deserve a night’s entertainment.” Ram started to say something, spotted Nicki standing in the doorway with her dowdy clothes and feathered fan, and grinned.

“The evening’s best entertainment appears to be here,” Ram said, but wisely headed for the door.

Nicki smiled at Alex, whose dark expression had returned, more thunderous than ever.

“Just what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“If you wish to spend the evening in the company of your bond servant, I am ready, m’sieur.”

Alex growled low in his throat. Stalking across the room, he grabbed her wrist, bent down, and hauled her over his shoulder. Grumbling something she couldn’t quite catch, he carted her up the stairs like a sack of potatoes. Trying not to notice the heat of his hand on her thigh, Nicki just smiled and let him carry her up.

Unceremoniously, he dumped her onto the bed. “Get out of those rags.”

Nicki set her jaw, but made no move to comply.

“Do it, Nicki, or I swear I’ll do it for you.”

She lifted her chin. “No” was all she said. With a sweep of his hand, Alex grabbed the front of her frayed black uniform and ripped it down the front, eliciting a scream of outrage.

“I’m not going!” she shouted.

Alex arched a brow and lifted one corner of his mouth in a smile that wasn’t a smile at all. “You have
no wish to spend an evening of entertainment at the Verandah?”

“It isn’t as though I haven’t warned you, Alex. You know how I feel about this.”

“And you have received a similar warning from me,
ma chère.
“Scowling, he bent over her, so close she could smell his spicy cologne. “Since you are so eager for my touch,” he told her, his voice hard with determination, “we shall forgo the evening I had planned and get on to the task you have set for me.”

Nicki swung her feet to the edge of the bed and tried to get up, but Alex pinned her easily, his hard arms pressing her down on the mattress. With several brisk but efficient movements, he stripped away the remnants of her shabby black uniform. Next went the petticoats, a fluffy white swirl on the floor at their feet. Nicki fought and cursed him to no avail. She found herself wishing she had agreed to the evening out after all. At least their confrontation would have been postponed.

Then again, an evening of waiting in dreaded anticipation might have been far worse.

Feeling his hand moving over her chemise, Nicki glanced up at him.

“What?” he despaired. “No corset? What kind of a servant would scrub her master’s floors in a near state of undress?”

Nicki flushed at the mocking note in his voice. She should have worn the uncomfortable contraption. Alex would have had a deuce of a time getting it off!

“Next time I shall attempt to be more proper.” She tried to wriggle out from beneath him, but instead felt his strong fingers slide inside her chemise, brushing against her breasts as he tore the fabric away. His
eyes skimmed over her, taking in the rise and fall of her bosom, his pupils dark and hungry. He left her there, half-naked and trying in vain to cover herself.

Alex merely removed his cravat and stock, his jacket and waistcoat. She watched him pull something from his pocket just before returning to the bed. Sliding as far away from him as she could get, she drew her legs up under her and glowered at him, her back pressed hard against the cold wooden headboard.

Paying her little heed, Alex reached for her hand, jerked it toward him, and looped something silky around her wrist. She gasped as he drew the loop tight, then fastened a length of pale blue silk to the headboard.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her eyes went wide as he grabbed her other wrist and looped a second length of silk around it.

“Saving you from yourself,” he replied. In minutes he had her arms stretched wide, the silken sashes carefully holding her in place in the middle of the massive bed. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” he added, “but knowing you as I do, I came prepared.”

“Last time you said you wouldn’t force me.”

“Last time I wasn’t certain your desire for me was as great as mine for you.”

“And now you are?”

“Now I know it’s only your stubborn St. Claire pride that keeps you from me.”

She couldn’t deny it. Just looking at his naked chest sent a thrill of desire through her body. She struggled against her silken bonds and felt an unwanted surge of anticipation.

“Damn you, Alex,” she cursed, but Alex merely removed her embroidered white cotton drawers. “Oooh,” she moaned as he captured first one flailing ankle and then the other, gently fixing each to a bedpost, spreading her legs and baring her most intimate parts to his view. She flushed crimson at the heated look that stole over him and the stiff arousal that pressed against the front of his breeches.

Aware of her embarrassment, Alex dimmed the lamp a little, but not so much he couldn’t see exactly what he intended. In seconds he had stripped off the rest of his clothes and joined her naked on the bed.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” Alex leaned over to capture a breast. He suckled it gently. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Nicki’s tongue wet the corner of her mouth. “Alex, please … I’m asking you not … to ….” But her words trailed off, her hips arched upward, and a soft sweet moan came from her throat.

“I hardly think so,
chérie.”
He bent his head and kissed her, just the gentlest brush of his lips before she turned away.

He kissed her cheek, though she tried to avoid him, the curve of her neck, then settled for a moment on the tender lobe of an ear. Tendrils of warmth flickered through her. Alex ran his tongue along the shelllike rim, slid it inside, then trailed soft wet kisses along her shoulder. A fire kindled inside her, a slow, langorous heat that hinted at flame.

Alex moved lower, his palms skimming over her flesh, his mouth caressing where his hands had been. In the glow of the lamplight, taut muscle rippled across his chest, and his curly brown chest hairs glistened as they teased her sensitive skin.

Alex cupped her breasts, sending shafts of heat searing through her, massaged and lifted each one, then took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, kneading it until it hardened to a stiff, taut bud. His tongue circled the dark areola, raising goose bumps across her flesh, and Nicki moaned.

Trembling now, she pulled at her bonds, but they held fast, fanning her desire in some strange way. The soft blue silk didn’t hurt her, just gave Alex the access to her body he intended.

“Your struggles are useless,
chérie.
Don’t fight it. Just let me love you.”

His tongue slid into her navel, circling the center, tasting her skin, rousing the sparks of fire into flame. Against her will, her body responded, her muscles tensing against the slow-burning warmth that crept over her. Alex’s mouth moved lower, across her abdomen, nibbling and kissing, drawing with his tongue a hot line of wetness into the dark red hairs at the juncture of her legs.

Still he did not stop.

Kissing the smooth white skin on the inside of her thighs, he nipped her with his teeth then moved upward toward the core of her passion.

Nicki was moaning now, restless and thrashing. She couldn’t stop herself, no matter how she tried. She didn’t guess his intentions until he fastened his mouth over the throbbing bud of her womanhood, the feeling so hot and exciting that for a moment it conquered her embarrassment.

“Alex, please,” she whispered breathlessly, torn between ecstasy and shame, “you—you can’t do this.”

Alex pulled back to look at her. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,
ma chère.
You are lovely in every
way. What we enjoy together remains between us. I mean to give you pleasure this night, and in doing so, I will heighten my own.”

His tongue traced fiery patterns on the flat spot below her navel. Again he moved lower, kissing his way up her thighs, caressing her with his hands. Then his mouth settled once more upon her most private place.

This time Alex was relentless. No amount of protest could sway him from his task. He was driving her to frenzy, sucking and tugging, using his mouth and his fingers until she felt the building, white-hot wave of her desire. Thrashing against the mattress, she moaned and begged him for more. When his tongue slid inside her, Nicki cried out his name. Her body tensed and her muscles grew rigid.

Like lightning in the eye of her mind, silver pinpricks of heat flashed over the horizon, lifting her up on the sweeping wave of pleasure that only Alex could bring.

Shuddering, she arched against him. “Please, Alex,” she cried out, demanding even more. “I want you.”

Alex kissed her then, thoroughly, passionately. She could taste her own musky scent on his breath as his tongue plunged into her mouth. She felt his manhood, hot and hard, then the length of him sliding inside, filling her and making them one.

Alex moved slowly at first, infusing her with sensation, forcing her to meet the rising tide of his passion. As her needs swelled with his, he moved feister, thrusting inside her, driving into her, pounding and pounding until her body seemed shaped by his will. Still it wasn’t enough.

“Untie me,” she begged, “I need to touch you.” She would surely die if she didn’t.

Using every ounce of his control, Alex steadied himself above her, his shaft still pulsing inside, and slipped the silken ties off each of Nicki’s wrists. With a soft sob, she twined her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers. Using her tongue in the most achingly sensuous manner Alex had ever known, she drove it inside his mouth, darting it in and out in rhythm to the thrusts he made into her body.

The world as Alex knew it slipped away, replaced by a high plateau where there were only the two of them. He was loving her there just as he was here, his muscular frame towering over her, his hard length filling her, claiming her.

Crying out her name, he drove into her, desperate to possess her, demanding she give back to him all that he needed to give her.

Alex felt her body stiffen, felt her passage tighten around him, and spent himself inside her just as she reached her release. Her arms clutched his neck, holding him to her, her small body pressed so tightly against him that the two of them seemed one.

They spiraled down from that lofty plateau, and still it seemed there was no one in the world but they.

BOOK: Creole Fires
10.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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