Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] (10 page)

His gaze dropped briefly to her moist lips. “I think there are some things you cannot prepare yourself for, Lady Victoria. They simply…happen. And steal your breath.” He forced his gaze back up to her eyes. “As many times as I’ve rounded that corner and seen this very same view, I’m awed each time. Not only because it is so beautiful, but because it is so unexpected.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, that describes it perfectly. It makes me wish I’d brought along my watercolors, although this is clearly a scene whose drama and vibrant colors are more suited to oils.”

“You paint?”

A splash of rose colored her cheeks, as if brushed on by an invisible artist. “Not well, I’m afraid, although I enjoy the hobby immensely. I’ve never attempted oils, but I brought my watercolor supplies to Cornwall.”

“Then by all means you must try to capture this scene before you return to London.”

Her gaze shifted to the stretch of golden sand below. “How do you access the beach?”

“There is a path about a mile ahead. Follow me.”

Victoria set her mount into motion, then reluctantly dragged her gaze away from the panoramic view to turn
her attention to the trail ahead. Her gaze settled instead on Dr. Oliver’s broad back. His white linen shirt stretched across the expanse of golden skin and sleek muscles she so vividly recalled seeing from the carriage yesterday. Skeins of sunlight showered down between the leaves and branches of the trees, gleaming through the strands of his dark hair. He handled his mount expertly, and a shiver of awareness worked its way through her at the sight of his powerful legs straddling the saddle. The way he moved—from the fluid ease with which he rode to the smooth, almost predatory way he walked—had her swallowing to relieve the sudden dryness in her throat. Heavens, old Dr. Peabody, who had been her family physician for years, didn’t look like that, move like that. No, he stomped through the house with all the grace of an elephant.

But there was nothing graceless about Dr. Oliver. With an effort she pulled her gaze away from him, concentrating on the beauty of her surroundings, the sound of the gulls and the surf, the brisk refreshment of the sea-scented air, the glimpses of white-capped blue through the trees. Still, no matter where she looked, she was very much aware of him riding ahead, and she wondered what he was thinking.

They continued on for a quarter hour before he halted near a small pond and dismounted. “The path to the beach is just ahead. We can leave the horses here so they can drink and rest while we’re exploring.” Midnight immediately went to the pond for water while Dr. Oliver approached her. When he stood beside Honey, he wordlessly raised his arms to help her dismount.

Her heart performed the most ridiculous somersault and Victoria inwardly frowned. Numerous gentlemen had helped her dismount in the past without causing any such
reaction. But the thought of Dr. Oliver’s large hands gripping her waist, a man whose hands had once caressed her in a manner that proved he was not quite a gentleman, unsettled her in a way that she couldn’t name other than to know that it…

Excited her.

Whatever part of her sensible self that warned her she shouldn’t allow him within ten feet of her was wholly overridden by the emerging daring part of herself that wanted him to touch her.

She looked down at him and easily read the amusement and challenge in his eyes. “I don’t bite, Lady Victoria. At least not very often.”

“A relief to be sure,” she said lightly. “However, are you certain that I don’t bite, Dr. Oliver?”

His eyes seemed to darken and his gaze dipped to her mouth. “As I recall, you do not. However, it is a risk I am willing to take.”

There was no mistaking his meaning, and she barely resisted the urge to fan herself with her gloved hand. Clearly he recalled their kiss, possibly in more detail than she’d suspected. Well, if that was the case, excellent. It could only help her cause, something she’d lost sight of for a few moments.

Reaching down, she rested her palms on his shoulders. His hands grasped her waist and he lowered her. But not in the quick, efficient manner other gentleman had. No, instead she found herself being lowered with a deliberate lack of haste that dragged her torso down the hard length of his. Mischief and something else, something that accelerated her heartbeat, glittered in his eyes. By the time her feet touched the ground, her face felt flushed and her breathing was erratic.

Instead of releasing her, his hands tightened on her waist, and her fingers flexed in response on his broad shoulders. She inhaled sharply and her head filled with the scent of him. Clean linen, sunshine warmed skin, mixed with a hint of sandalwood. Only inches separated their bodies. The last time she’d stood this close to him, the room had been dimly lit, but today ribbons of sunlight embraced them. Looking up at him, Victoria admired the intriguing dark gold flecks in his eyes, eyes that even up close remained maddeningly unreadable. Noted the faint pattern of lines that radiated from the corners of his eyes, as if he were accustomed to laughter. The golden texture of his skin, smoothly shaven, stretched over his high cheekbones and firm chin. And then there was his mouth…

His lips, like everything else about him, had fascinated her the instant she’d seen them. Surely men were not supposed to be blessed with such beautiful mouths. His lips looked simultaneously firm and soft, as if they could issue harsh commands yet yield at the same time. Perhaps it was due to the perfect, precise shape of his upper lip, which contrasted so unexpectedly with the sensual fullness of his lower lip. It was a mouth that commanded attention, and Victoria knew she couldn’t have been the only woman to be held so enthralled by it. As she well remembered, he knew how to use that mouth.

And it suddenly struck her that she wanted him to kiss her again. Wanted to know if the magic she’d experienced three years ago had been real or just a figment of her overactive, girlish imagination. She’d come to Cornwall armed with the intention of sharing another kiss with him, but it hadn’t occurred to her that she would actually
want
to kiss him for more than mere revenge. A frown furrowed between her brows. Damnation,
wanting
him—in any
manner—was not part of her plan at all. He was the one who was to want her.

Jerking her attention upward, their gazes collided and Victoria inwardly groaned. He’d obviously caught her staring. Bad enough, but even worse was the absence of any hint of desire in his eyes. No, he simply stared at her with an utterly blank expression. Definitely not boding well for her revenge plan.

Clearly this wasn’t an optimal time to try and entice him, as he appeared quite…unenticeable. Well, no matter. She would have plenty of opportunities during her visit, although she couldn’t deny she was irked that he’d so unsettled her while her nearness had obviously not affected him at all. Slipping her hands from his shoulders, she backed up several steps, further annoyed that her knees felt less than steady. His hands slid from her waist, and although he no longer touched her, she swore she still felt the imprints of his palms on her midriff.

Several seconds of silence stretched between them, then he cleared his throat. “Shall we continue to the beach?”

“Please.” She fell into step beside him, and had to grudgingly admit that he was politeness itself, offering his hand in spots where the path was a bit steep, holding back stray branches so she could pass unharmed, catching her arm when she stumbled once. Of course, he certainly should have caught her, as it was entirely his fault she stumbled. If she’d been concentrating on the path rather than the brush of her shoulder against his upper arm, she wouldn’t have missed her step.

But holding onto any semblance of annoyance was completely impossible as they neared the beach. A band
of golden sand stretched before them, filling her with the desire to spread her arms and run across the unspoiled grains. The sea breeze caught at her bonnet, and she pressed a hand to her head.

“Most likely a lost cause,” Dr. Oliver said, indicating her bonnet with a nod. “We’re about to leave the protection of the trees, and the wind can gust quite strongly.”

Victoria kept her hand clapped onto her head as they ventured onto the sand. The wind seemed to have died down, and she lowered her hand. Almost instantly a salt-misted gust snatched the bonnet from her head. “Oh!”

Dr. Oliver shot her a quick grin that clearly said, “I told you so,” then he took off in pursuit of her runaway bonnet, sprinting toward the water. Watching him dash across the sand filled her with the overwhelming desire to do the same. Grasping her skirts, she lifted them to her ankles and ran after him.

The leather ankle boots she’d worn for riding sank into the soft sand, slowing her progress, but the wind whipped at her hair and gown, the sun gleamed on the azure water, and the scent of salty freshness filled her lungs, instilling her with a heady sensation of freedom unlike anything she’d ever known. A delighted laugh escaped her, then another, and she ran faster, kicking up golden grainy arcs of sand behind her.

She ran on toward the water, watching Dr. Oliver reach down twice for her bonnet, only to be eluded both times, before finally capturing the elusive hat by one of its long dark green satin ribbons. He was brushing sand from it when he caught sight of her running toward him. He stilled, watching her approach. She halted several feet away from him, laughing, breathless, and invigorated.

“You rescued my hat,” she said, her words coming out in breathy pants, her chest heaving. “Thank you.”

He handed her the runaway bonnet. “You’re welcome. Although I would have returned it to you. There was no need to exhaust yourself.”

“I’m not exhausted. I’m invigorated!” She threw her arms wide and spun around twice. “I have never been anywhere as refreshing as this beach. It seems as if the air is vibrating with energy. Yet, it somehow manages to also feel…serene.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hands, then laughed. “I’m afraid I cannot explain what I mean.”

He looked at her intently. “There’s no need to explain, as I understand precisely what you’re saying. It is a place that simultaneously inspires excitement and infuses the soul with peace.”

“Yes! That’s it exactly.”

A slow smile curved his lips, speeding up her heart in an altogether different way than her impromptu run. She felt bewitched by his gaze, captivated by the way the breeze ruffled his hair and how the sunlight bathed him in golden warmth. She managed to force her gaze downward, only to find herself again transfixed by the way the breeze molded his linen shirt to his chest and torso, offering a teasing hint of his masculine form that was at once entirely too much and not nearly enough.

Determined not to be caught staring again, Victoria turned her head, and her gaze fell upon a shell in the sand. She quickly pulled off her gloves, then bent down. “My first treasure,” she said as she rose, holding up the delicate pearly white shell.

“Lovely,” he murmured. She glanced at him and noted that he wasn’t looking at the shell, but at her, with that same unreadable expression. What might wipe that ex
pression from his eyes and fill them with something easily decipherable, such as…desire?

She wasn’t certain, but she realized she wanted very badly to know.

A
fter fashioning a basket of sorts by tying her bonnet strings together, Victoria set her shell in her makeshift carrier, then looped the ribbons over her arm like a reticule. No sooner had she done so than she spied another shell several feet away. She pounced on the treasure, exclaiming over the unusual find. “I’ve never seen shells such as these,” she said, scooping up several more.

“And we haven’t even reached the best location this beach offers,” Dr. Oliver said.

Victoria shaded her eyes with a sandy-fingered hand
and looked up at him from her crouched position. “You cannot mean that there is a better place than this?”

“That is precisely what I mean. Would you like to see it?”

“Do ducks
quack
?”

He laughed. “As the owner of two ducks, I can attest that they do indeed quack. Often very early in the morning when you’re not particularly eager to hear it.” He extended his hand. “Come. I’ll show you a magical place, and you may fill up your bonnet on the way.”

Victoria slipped her hand into his and allowed him to help her to her feet. Their palms only touched for several seconds before he released her, but the impact reverberated through her. His hand was large and strong and warm. She’d detected the hard roughness of calluses on his palm, an intriguing texture she’d never felt before, as none of the gentlemen of her acquaintance would ever build an animal pen or ride without gloves.

With her bending down every few seconds to pick up another shell, their progress was slow, but even if she hadn’t been adding to her collection, she couldn’t have rushed. The sound of the waves crashing against the sand and cliffs offered a hypnotic background to the dramatic scenery. After absorbing the sound for several minutes, she said, “May I ask you something?”

“Yes, although based on your tone, it sounds like a topic that might incite an argument—a pity, as we’re doing so well thus far.”

“Not an argument, but the topic is…personal.”

“Ah. Well, ask away, and I shall endeavor to satisfy your curiosity.”

“You said earlier that after your last mission failed, you had a falling out with your father and brother and that it was best for all concerned you left here.”

He looked straight ahead and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Yes.” He turned and his gaze bore into hers. “I suppose you want to know what caused our estrangement.”

“I cannot deny I am curious, but what I actually wondered was if your return meant that the rift between you was now healed.” When he continued to simply look at her, she fell into her hated habit of babbling when unnerved. “I only wondered because I know how hurtful the severing of family ties can be. My mother was estranged from her sister and I witnessed firsthand how harmful the situation was to both of them before Mother died. I was merely hoping that your situation had been resolved.” Her words came out in a rush, and she had to physically press her lips together to stop the torrent.

A frown pulled down his brows, and he turned to once again stare straight ahead. “The rift is still there, although we’re all maneuvering carefully around it, as if it’s a pile of something we’ve mucked from the stalls and don’t wish to step in. I don’t know if the break can ever be completely healed. Trust, once broken, is difficult to repair. And words, once spoken, cannot be unheard.”

“True, but there is great power in forgiveness, for both those who extend it and those who receive it.”

“Then I shall hope that someday my brother and father can forgive me.”

Forgive you for what
, she wanted to ask, but managed to hold her tongue, hoping he would volunteer the information. Nearly a minute of silence passed before he said, “The failure of that mission rests on my shoulders. Colin and Gordon were both shot and easily could have died. The jewels disappeared. It was believed that I betrayed the mission in order to secure the jewels for myself.”

“Who believed that?”

“Everyone who mattered.” The words sounded flat, bitter. “Nothing was proved against me, but the rumors were damaging enough.”

“Did you do it?”

He turned to face her, and she found herself pinned by his intense scrutiny. “Do you think I did?”

“I hardly know you well enough to say.”

“And I hardly know you well enough to admit to committing a crime.”

Victoria nodded slowly, noting that he didn’t proclaim his innocence. “So the note from my father provides information about these jewels. Information that could either reunite you with your supposed ill-gotten gains—which I’m guessing are worth a great deal…?”

“A king’s ransom,” he agreed.

“Or provide you with a way to clear your name—also worth a great deal.”

He raised a brow. “Or even better, perhaps a way to accomplish both tasks.”

“Since my father sent you this information, it seems clear he believes you innocent.”

“Does it? That’s a rather naive deduction, Lady Victoria. It is equally possible he has other reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Such as a plan to entrap me. Or perhaps to have the jewels recovered for his own financial or political gain.”

He clearly read the outrage that flooded heat into her face because before she could speak, he said, “I’m not making any accusations or even a suggestion. I’m merely pointing out that things are not always as they seem and that there is usually more than one reason or explanation for any set of circumstances.”

“That reeks of making excuses, which sounds like a
convenient method for you to explain away any past indiscretions.”

Instead of looking offended, a devilish gleam sparkled in his eyes. “Surely something everyone is guilty of at one time or another. Even you, Lady Victoria.”

“I’ve done nothing for which I need to make excuses.”

“Never? A beautiful woman such as yourself? Come come, now. Surely at one soiree or another some impertinent rogue was smitten by your charms and convinced you to part with a kiss.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “Hmmm. Perhaps your suitors Lords Bransby or Draven-ripple?”

“Branripple and Dravensby,” Victoria corrected in a cold voice at complete odds with the heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck. “And that is none of your business.”

“And surely afterward,” he continued, taking no note of her icy tone, “you blamed your behavior on any number of excuses rather than accepting the actual reason.”

“And what reason would that be?”

“That you found the gentleman as attractive as he found you. That you were as curious to know the taste and feel of his kiss as he was to know yours.”

Victoria often cursed her inability to think up a suitable reply until hours or days after the fact, and never more than she cursed it now. Chagrin burned her cheeks for she knew perfectly well that he referred to the passionate kiss they’d shared. And the fact that he so accurately pinpointed that she’d made excuses for her scandalous behavior only served to fluster her further. He paused to pick up a perfectly formed small conch shell which he then held up for her examination. “Shall we add this one to your collection?”

Grasping the opportunity to change the subject, she held out her bonnet and said, “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

“Something to remember me by,” he said, placing the treasure in her bonnet.

The last thing Victoria wanted was something to remind her of Dr. Oliver when her entire purpose in coming here was to erase him from her memory. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell
him
that. Instead, she looked at the soaring stone cliff rising before them and said, “We’re almost at the end of the beach. Are we nearing this magical place you mentioned?”

“We are. In fact, it is directly ahead of us.”

“The cliff?”

Instead of answering, he smiled and held out his hand. “Come. Let me show you the magic.”

Unable to resist the intriguing invitation, Victoria settled her hand against his. His long, strong fingers closed over hers, shooting a warm tingle up her arm. When they neared the jutting stone cliff a moment later, it looked as if he intended to walk right into the rough surface. Victoria tried to slow her pace, but he urged her onward. To her amazement, he led her into a cleverly hidden narrow crevice in the stone, so narrow they had to turn sideways to navigate it.

“Careful,” he said, moving slowly. “The rocks can be sharp in places.”

She followed his lead, stepping carefully on the hard-packed sand, avoiding brushing against the craggy black rock. The air in the narrow passage was still and cool, and the farther they walked, the dimmer the light became. The sound of the waves receded to a distant echo. The passageway widened enough to allow them to walk single file, but by then they were swallowed in complete dark
ness. He was no more than a foot in front of her, yet she couldn’t see him at all.

He must have felt her apprehension because he whispered, “Don’t be alarmed. We’re almost there.

She sensed they turned a corner and was relieved to note what looked like a wan patch of light ahead. They rounded another corner, and Victoria suddenly found herself standing in a circular cavern approximately twelve feet in diameter. A swatch of pale light dimly illuminated the area, and she looked up. A small piece of blue sky was visible through an oblong opening in the stone far, far above her head.

“What is this place?” she asked, setting down her bonnet then turning in a slow circle.

“A favorite haunt of mine. I discovered it as a boy, quite by accident during one of my endless explorations. I dubbed it Crystal Cave.”

“Why Crystal Cave? I don’t see any crystals.”

“Only because a cloud is obviously obscuring the sun. Run your finger over the wall.”

An odd request, but Victoria skimmed a fingertip lightly over the rough surface. He clasped her hand and brought it to her lips.

“Taste,” he said softly.

An even odder request, but with her gaze locked on his, Victoria touched her tongue to her fingertip. “Salty,” she said.

He nodded. “This cavern fills with water at high tide—something I discovered the hard way and nearly didn’t live to tell the tale. But it is like this at low tide. When the sunlight hits the accumulated dry salt crystals…”

His voice faded as a shaft of bright sunlight illuminated the cave. Victoria gasped as the dark walls suddenly shim
mered with sparkling light. “It’s like being surrounded by glittering diamonds,” she said, delighted and awed by the spectacle. She again rotated in a slow circle. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s…dazzling.”

“Yes. I’d almost forgotten just how dazzling.”

She stopped turning and looked at him, then stilled when she discovered his gaze resting upon her. Her heart jumped in that ridiculous manner it seemed to whenever she found herself near him. “I suppose you and your brother and Lord Alwyck enjoyed many adventures in here.”

He shook his head. “I never told them about this place.” He leaned his shoulders against the wall and regarded her with an enigmatic expression. “I’ve never brought anyone here. Until now.”

His softly spoken words seemed to echo off the glittering walls. Leaning against the rock, a shadowy contrast to the shimmering crystals, he looked dark, a bit dangerous—very much like the rakish pirate she’d once imagined him—and very delicious. Her heart slapped against her rib cage so hard she wondered that the sound didn’t reverberate off the sparkling walls.

“I suppose I should then be flattered that you brought me here,” she said, proud of the light tone she achieved. Still, her curiosity made her ask, “Why did you?”

Nathan watched the glittering play of light shimmer over her, coating her in ribbons of sparkles, and any good intentions he may have harbored fled. She looked like a princess bathed in diamonds, her silky curls in glorious windblown disarray, her full lips glistening, tempting him like a siren’s call. Pushing off the wall, he slowly approached her. “I could offer any number of plausible reasons, such as I wished to play the polite host and thought
you would enjoy it. Or, I’d a strong desire to visit the cave myself and since I couldn’t very well leave you alone on the beach, I brought you with me. And while those are true, if I offered them, I would be blaming my behavior on excuses rather than accepting the actual reason.” When only two feet separated them, he reached out and captured her hand. Her eyes widened slightly, but she made no move to stop him. Instead she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, clearly an unconscious gesture on her part, but one that shot liquid heat straight to his groin. Bloody hell, he didn’t stand much chance of being immune to her kiss when she rendered him so painfully aroused before their lips even met.

“What is the actual reason?” she whispered.

“Are you certain you want to know?” At her nod, he said, “I’m curious to know if the kiss we once shared would be as enjoyable the second time around.” He settled her hand on his chest, right above the spot where his heart thumped as if he’d run a race, then lightly clasped her waist and drew her slowly closer. When only inches separated them, he said, “Are you willing to admit you want the same thing?”

He stood perfectly still, waiting for her response, wondering if she would display the same courage she had the previous evening or if she would hide behind a false curtain of prim, maidenly reserve. She leaned into him, raised her face and whispered, “I want the same thing.”

Thank God
. Nathan bludgeoned back the nearly overwhelming primitive desire to simply yank her against him and devour her and instead slowly lowered his head toward those tempting lips that had haunted countless hours. At last he would know if he’d just imagined how good that long ago kiss had been.

He lightly brushed his lips over hers, a tantalizing whisper of a touch. A breathless sound escaped her, and he feathered his lips over hers again, teasing, searching, tasting. He ran the tip of his tongue over her plump lower lip, an invitation she accepted by parting her lips. With a groan he couldn’t hold back, he drew her tightly against him and settled his mouth on hers. And instantly knew what had gone through the mind of the prince in the Cinderella tale when he’d finally found the foot that fit the glass slipp
er: It’s about bloody damn time
.