Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] (11 page)

Desire seared him with the intensity of a flash fire, and as it had the last time he’d held this woman in his arms and kissed her, he lost all sense of time and place. There was only her, the luscious taste of her silky mouth, the erotic friction of her tongue mating with his, the satin of her hair sifting through his fingers, the delicate scent of roses rising from her skin, the lush feel of her feminine curves pressing against him, the arousing sensation of her hands gliding up and down his back.

Damn it, he felt…unhinged. Desperate. In a way that would have appalled him if he’d had any control over his reaction to her. The last time he held her, he’d been very much aware that his brother and her aunt sat in the next room. But there was no one else here now…

Hauling her up against him, he stepped back until his shoulders hit the wall. With a deep groan, he spread his legs, planted his boots firmly in the sand, and drew her into the vee of his thighs.

Lost…he was totally, utterly lost. No woman had ever felt like this, tasted like this. Yet, it wasn’t simply the way she fit so perfectly in his arms or the delicious flavor of her that affected him so powerfully. It was also her ardent response to his kiss, to his touch. He doubted he’d have had
a prayer of resisting her under any circumstances, but the fact that she kissed him, touched him, with a fervor equal to his own all but brought him to his knees.

She moaned and shifted restlessly against him, and his hands wandered down her back, to cup the enticing curve of her buttocks. He settled her more firmly against him then slowly rubbed himself against her. His erection jerked and he knew he stood in real danger of losing all control. Desperate to slow things down before he disgraced himself in a way he hadn’t since he was a green lad, but unable to stop this madness, he somehow found the strength to abandon the silken delights of her mouth, to trail his lips over her soft cheek, then along her jaw.

But he found no relief there, as her skin inundated his senses with the elusive hint of roses. He ran the tip of his tongue over the delicate shell of her ear, absorbing her sharp intake of breath, which melted into a husky groan when his teeth gently grazed her earlobe. He nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear, and she arched her neck to afford him better access, all while her hands smoothed over his chest and shoulders. He touched his tongue to the throbbing hollow at the base of her throat, absorbing the frantic beat.

Stop…he had to stop…but every halfhearted rational thought fled when she fisted her hands in his hair and dragged his head up.

“Again,” she whispered against his mouth, not a plea, but a command filled with impatience. If he’d been capable of doing so, he would have laughed at the autocratic demand, which was the same one she’d issued him three years ago. He hadn’t denied her, or himself, then, and he’d be damned if he was capable of it now.

Their mouths melded in a lush, deep kiss, his tongue
stroking in an imitation of the act his body ached to share with hers. Wild hunger, unlike anything he’d ever before experienced, roared through his veins. His hands glided up her back, then forward to cup her breasts. Her beaded nipple grazed his palm through the material of her riding costume—material that had to go. He slipped off her lace fichu, then glided his fingers over the satin swells of her full breasts. Bloody hell, she was so soft. Her warm skin quivered beneath his hands, and his fingers slid beneath the edge of her bodice.

She leaned back, breaking off their kiss. “Wh-What are you doing?” she panted against his lips.

Questions? She expected him to be able to answer questions? His fingers brushed over her nipple and he groaned.

“
What
are you doing?”

He had to swallow to find his voice. “Surely that is obvious.”

Shoving against his chest, she pulled out of his embrace and backed up several paces. With her chest heaving, hair mussed, bodice askew, color high, and lips moist and swollen, she looked aroused and as if she’d just left her lover’s arms. Until he looked into her eyes. Then she looked like glaring Fury about to sizzle him where he stood with a lightning bolt.

“Yes, it is obvious,” she said, her eyes spitting anger as she grabbed at her bodice. “You’re looking for your letter.”

N
athan stared at her, nonplussed, ragged breaths puffing from between his lips for several seconds. Then he shook his head and laughed. “Well, hell. That’s actually what I
should
have been doing. Unfortunately it never occurred to me.”

She sent him a withering look. “Surely you don’t expect me to believe that of an accomplished spy.”

“After three years of not using my spy skills, I’m afraid they’re a bit rusty. And you’re not giving your charms nearly enough credit. I never once thought of the letter.”
As if I could have
. Damn it, if she’d asked him to state his
own name he would have been hard pressed to recall it. He sucked in a deep breath and shoved back his hair with hands that still weren’t quite steady. “However, now that you’ve brought up the subject of my note, I want it back.” He pushed away from the wall and approached her. Her eyes widened, but then she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin and stood her ground. When only two feet separated them, he reached out and gently traced the backs of his fingers against her flushed cheek.

“Please, Victoria…” Her name rolled off his tongue, and he knew that after what they’d just shared, he’d never want to address her formally again. “Give me the note. After everything I told you today, surely you can see that it’s important to me.”

She blinked, then her eyes narrowed. “Dr. Oliver—”

“Nathan. We’re rather past the formal use of titles, don’t you agree?”

“Nathan…I cannot decide if you’re sincere or trying to trick me. Spies are known to be very crafty, you know.”

“I can’t deny that I can be crafty on occasion. But in this case I’m sincere.”

She studied him for several seconds, then said, “I want to give you the note, but I insist it be done on my terms. I want to help in this search for the jewels.” Stepping away from him, she paced the narrow confines of the cave, then paused to face him. Her features remained resolute, but her eyes—those huge blue eyes that reminded him of the sea—beseeched him. “Nathan, I’ve been cosseted and coddled my entire life, but ultimately always dismissed as nothing more than a decorative piece. I am simultaneously admired and ignored. Men hear me when I speak, but they do not
listen
to me. Do you have any idea how frustrating
that is? I’ve nearly always managed to suppress these feelings, but lately…”

She blew out a long breath and her bravado seemed to wilt. “Lately, I’ve experienced an unprecedented, unsettling sense of discontent that urges me to stop accepting things that I do not like. Things I think are unfair. And these feelings came to a head with the discovery of my father’s secret occupation. For years he lived an adventurous life while I was lied to and relegated to an existence that was as exciting as watching a blob of paint dry.” Her chin dropped and she looked at the ground. “Until you brought me to this cave, the most exciting moment of my life was when you kissed me in the gallery.”

That admission, whispered so softly, slammed into him with the force of a blow to the chest. He touched his fingers beneath her chin, urging it gently up until their gazes met. To his alarm and dismay, her eyes shimmered with moisture. “You’re not going to cry are you?”

“Certainly not. I’m not the weepy sort.”

“Good. Because I’m not the sort of man who is swayed by feminine tears.” His conscience kicked him squarely on the arse for that bold-faced lie. Damn it, if she’d railed at him, demanded her way, he could have fought her, but this show of vulnerability sliced him off at the knees. Of course, he’d be damned if he’d let
her
know that.

A flash of anger glittered in her eyes and she pulled away from him. “And I’m not the sort of woman who resorts to false tears to cajole a man into giving me what I want.”

“No, I can see that you’re more the type to bludgeon a man with your demands.”

“I am simply sick and tired of being treated like an empty-headed nitwit because I’m a woman.”

“I don’t think you’re an empty-headed nitwit. Indeed, I think you’re far too clever.”

She seemed to recover herself. “Er, thank you. Far too clever to give up the note without you agreeing to my terms.”

“All right.”

“I’ll not compromise on this.”

“Very well.”

“Do not think that I’ll fall victim—” She squinted her eyes at him. “What did you say?”

“I’ve agreed to your terms.”

“That I’ll assist in the search for the jewels?”

“In exchange for my letter. Yes. However, I have some terms of my own.”

“Which are?”

“As I am experienced in these matters and you are not, I will expect you to heed my advice.”

“So long as you agree to not dismiss my ideas out of hand, that is acceptable to me. Anything else?”

“Yes. There is a possibility that there may be some danger involved in this matter. Your father has sent you here for safekeeping, and it is my duty to see that you remain unharmed. I’ll insist on your word that you will not take any risks or wander off by yourself.”

She nodded. “I’ve no wish to place myself in danger. You have my word. So…we’ve struck our bargain?”

“Yes. Well, except for the final thing.”

“And what might that be?” she asked in a suspicion-laden tone.

“We must seal our bargain as all spies do.”

“Oh. Very well.” She held out her hand.

“With a kiss.”

She snatched back her hand and narrowed her eyes at him. “What nonsense is this?”

“Spies seal bargains with a kiss.” When he stepped toward her and she hastily backed up, he made a
tsking
noise. “Here we are, mere seconds into our agreement, and already you are reneging, Victoria. We agreed that as I am the expert in spy-related matters, you would heed my advice.” He took another step toward her, which she answered with another step backward.

“And I shall gladly heed your advice when you are not spouting Banbury tales. Kiss to seal a bargain indeed. Next I suppose you’ll expect me to believe that you sealed bargains with my father, your brother, and Lord Alwyck with kisses.”

Another step forward for him, another retreat from her. “Of course not. Male spies use secret handshakes with each other. Only bargains between male spies and
females
are sealed with kisses. It’s all written down in the Official Spy Handbook.”

“Official spy handbook?” She made a snorting sound of disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“I’m perfectly serious. There are very exacting rules to spydom, you know, and they had to be written down somewhere. Thus the handbook.”

“And you have a copy?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll show it to me?”

He smiled and took another step toward her. “My dear Victoria, I would be delighted to show you anything of mine you might wish to see.”

She swallowed, retreated another step, and her back hit the sparkling wall. She lifted her chin. “I have a feeling that this ‘seal the bargain with a kiss’ is merely a ruse to insinuate your hand into my bodice again.”

“As tempting as that thought is, I will prove my sincerity.” Nathan stepped forward once more, stopping when
less than a foot separated them. Reaching out, he slowly placed his palms on the stone wall on either side of her head. “See there? I won’t even touch you. My hands will remain exactly where they are. Now, shall we seal our bargain?”

Victoria stood with her back pressed against the rough stone wall and desperately tried to summon the outrage she should be feeling at him for trapping her like this a second time. But instead of outrage, deep yearning and a purely feminine thrill shivered through her. Had less than an hour passed since she’d wondered what his eyes would look like filled with desire? Well, now she knew. They glittered with a combination of hunger and arousal that made her feel as if her skirts had caught fire. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she could feel the heat emanating from him. Smell his warm skin, the subtle fragrance of sandalwood, starched linen, mixed with the fresh crisp scent of the sea. She’d yet to fully recover from his last devastating kiss. She wasn’t at all certain her legs wouldn’t buckle from another kiss. But certainly Today’s Modern Woman would want to find out….

His dark head descended toward hers. Her eyes slid closed and she pressed her fisted hands against the wall in preparation for the frantic onslaught.

But it never came. Instead, he brushed light, airy kisses, as gentle as butterfly wings, over her brow. Her temple and cheeks. Her closed eyelids, the line of her jaw, the corners of her mouth. His warm breath, scented with something spicy that reminded her of cinnamon, caressed her skin with the same gentle touch as his lips. By the time his mouth brushed over hers, her heart pounded so hard she could feel the frenzied beat throughout her body…in her temples. At the base of her throat. Between her thighs.

Eager with anticipation, she again braced herself for the demanding onslaught of his kiss, but again he surprised her by barely touching his lips to hers. A slow, gentle brush, followed by a leisurely drag of his tongue across her bottom lip. Her lips parted, and he kissed her slowly, softly, with a complete lack of haste that simultaneously melted and maddened her. Her body ached to be pressed against the hard length of his. To feel his hands skimming over her, to run her hands over him. Heat swept through her, settling low in her abdomen. She pressed her trembling legs together in an effort to relieve the tingling pressure between her thighs, but the friction only served to frustrate her further. She wanted, needed, more. Yet the instant she slid her hands around his waist to urge him closer, he stepped back. A groan of protest rose to her lips and her hands fell back limply to her sides. She could only be grateful for the solid wall at her back which prevented her from slithering to the sand in a boneless, breathless heap.

She dragged her heavy eyelids open and noted with no small amount of pique that
he
appeared not in the least bit undone, while she felt completely unraveled. While she remained propped against the wall, fighting for breath and willing her pulse to slow, he gathered up her discarded fichu. Without asking her permission, he settled the delicate blond lace around her neck, nimbly tucking it into the top of her gown, then adjusting her bodice with a deft tug and practiced ease that indicated he was well acquainted with the intricacies of ladies’ clothing. Heat gushed through her and she wondered if he would be as adept at removing a woman’s clothes.

With his gaze, once again indecipherable, resting on hers, he said, “Our bargain is sealed, Victoria. My note, if you please.”

The way he said her name, in that deep rasp, had her pressing her lips together to keep from asking him to say it again. “I will give it to you once we return to the house.”

One dark brow quirked upward. “If it is your modesty you seek to protect, may I remind you that I am already acquainted with what’s inside your bodice.”

Fire scorched her cheeks. Still, she was grateful for his words, as they served as a much needed reminder that this man was an arrogant blight on her peace. “The note is not hidden in my bodice. I shall return it to you once we’re back at Creston Manor.”

He studied her for several seconds, and Victoria returned his speculative look with a cool regard of her own. Finally he nodded. “Very well. Then let us be off.”

He picked up her shell-filled bonnet, tucked the bundle under his arm, then extended his hand. Wordlessly, Victoria slipped her hand into his and allowed him to lead her from the cave. The instant they exited the narrow passage between the stones, he released her and she forced away the absurd sense of disappointment that flooded her. There was no reason to be disappointed. Indeed, she should be ecstatic. She’d only arrived in Cornwall yesterday and already achieved her objective—she’d given him a kiss he wouldn’t soon forget. Of course, she was now faced with the indisputably annoying fact that she’d also given him a kiss
she
wouldn’t soon forget. Botheration, that hadn’t been part of her plan at all.

Then another disturbing thought hit her.
Had
she given him a kiss he wouldn’t soon forget? While there was no denying that he’d been physically aroused by their encounter, how could she be sure he wouldn’t forget their kiss five minutes from now? Perhaps he’d already forgotten.

She peeked at him from the corner of her eye as they
crossed the beach, and her lips pressed together with a combination of dismay and annoyance. He strode along as if he hadn’t a care in the world, his face lifted toward the sun, the wind ruffling through his dark hair. Bending down, he picked up a small, perfect ivory conch. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. He looked altogether unperturbed, unconcerned, and certainly not in the throes of brooding over their time in the cave.

Unable to keep from asking, Victoria said, “May I ask your thoughts?”

He rubbed his hand over his stomach. “I was wondering what Cook planned for lunch. Hopefully something hearty. I’m famished.”

Food. The blasted man was thinking about food. Clamping her jaw shut to prevent her from asking any other questions to which she didn’t want to hear the answers, she remained silent for the remainder of their journey back to the house. As they neared the stables, she noted Lords Sutton and Alwyck standing in the wide doorway, watching them approach. Both men were looking at her intently, and she realized what a disaster her hair must look from the brisk breeze.
And Nathan’s long-fingered hands
, her inner voice added slyly.

Humph
. The wind had wreaked havoc with her coiffure long before Nathan had touched her. Indeed, she was grateful for the gusty wind, for without it she would have no other explanation for her disheveled state.

Sitting astride Midnight, Nathan observed his brother and Gordon watch Victoria approach and decided he didn’t like what saw. Gordon looked at her as if she was a delectable confection and he’d suddenly developed a sweet tooth. Colin’s expression was equally rapt. By the looks of it, neither man would object to taking over his
duty of protecting Victoria. A decidedly unpleasant sensation, which he told himself was hunger, gripped his gut.