Lady Alexandra's Excellent Adventure: A Summersby Tale (11 page)

Finally.

His lips brushed against her skin, searing her with kisses, his pulse quickening with every touch he made as he breathed her in. He heard her sigh in response—such a lovely sound.

Abandoning her cleavage, he tightened his grip on her waist and buried his head against the curve of her neck. Once again, the scent of lavender enfolded him in its sweetness. He reached for her face, allowing his fingers to run along the delicate edge of her cheekbone. She leaned into his caress, letting out a slight murmur of pleasure that aroused him more than a kiss or touch ever should.

Enough
.

Easing back, he watched her closely, examining each and every one of her features. Her face was flushed, her lips slightly parted, and when her eyes fluttered open, there was a look of want within them that almost had him embarrassing himself like a boy in short pants.

Without a word, he took her hand and dragged her along with him, almost tripping on a rug in his haste to get out of the hallway. He found the door to his room and pushed it open with such force that he nearly unhinged it.

Yanking her inside, he kicked the door shut with the heel of his shoe before thrusting her up against the wall. She looked mildly dazed, though by no means perturbed by his rough handling, although a few strands of her hair had come loose to trail down her neck.

“What do you want?” he asked her, his voice low and gravelly as he braced his arms on either side of her.

Alarm bells were ringing a deafening symphony in his head and as much as he wished it, he could no longer ignore them.

Alexandra peered up at him, her brilliant blue eyes swimming with desire. “You,” she whispered. “I want you, Michael.”

Had his name ever sounded sweeter? By God she was even more brazen than he’d come to expect.

Bloody hell!

If only he had the strength to walk away. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Such things have consequences,” he told her. “Are you prepared to face them?”

She shifted slightly as if unsure of how to answer. He’d given her a good reason to pause. “I’ve no desire to trap you,” she murmured as her warm breath flowed toward him, penetrating the thin linen of his shirt before diving beneath his skin—a soft heat that grew, spread, and filled him to the brim. “I merely wish to enjoy whatever it is you have to offer.”

Michael squeezed his eyes shut and counted to three, forcing his heart rate back to a more disciplined pace than it had been at for the past five minutes. He let out a slow, lengthy sigh. She was an innocent after all, regardless of how she wished for him to perceive her, and even though he may have just decided to ask for her brother’s permission to court her, he sure as hell wasn’t about to deny her a wedding night. Some things were sacred, even to him.

Still, he had to make her understand where this path she was so determined to take was bound to lead them. By God he was more than happy to oblige her, but it was still imperative to him that she made her choice, fully aware of what the repercussions would be. “You’re a virgin,” he told her. “I won’t change that.”

“Why?” she asked, her voice held a note of despair that shot straight through him. He squeezed his eyes even tighter and groaned in physical anguish. Did she have any idea of the effect she was having on him, he wondered.

“You’re a lady, Alex, and regardless of what I may have done in the past, I have never taken an innocent to my bed. Doing so would ruin you in every way imaginable. Even if nobody finds out, your eventual husband will discover the truth quickly enough, and he will despise you forever.” The look of disappointment on her face was undeniable, but he rushed on. He had to tell her of his own intentions before he lost his nerve. “I cannot deny that there is something between us—an attraction more powerful than any I have ever known. It’s for this reason that I have decided to ask for Ryan’s permission to court you.”

Alexandra froze, pondering his words briefly before saying, “Yes, I believe a courtship will serve us nicely.”

Michael frowned at her odd choice of words and considered a more direct approach. He needed to make sure that he’d made himself understood—that by agreeing to an intimate attachment with him, she was agreeing to so much more—a courtship and eventually marriage. On the other hand, the woman wasn’t an imbecile, and he loathed treating her as such.

Looking into her eyes, her need so naked in that gaze of hers, he leaned back on his heels and took her hand in his.

Enough talk.

She wanted him, and he wanted her. Let the cards fall where they may.

A
lexandra’s pulse quickened as Michael led her brusquely toward a burgundy velvet sofa and with a gentle tug on her arm, encouraged her to sit, her mind still trying to digest his proposition.

A courtship?

She didn’t want marriage, but did a courtship necessarily have to lead to that? Clearly, Michael was an honorable man—more honorable than she’d imagined, given his reputation. She was confident that marriage would be the last thing he desired for himself, though she had to respect him for trying to do the right thing for
her
.

However, even if he wouldn’t take her to his bed, perhaps the pretext of a courtship would put his mind at ease enough to allow him to . . . her stomach fluttered at the thought of what he might do to her. When they returned to England they could always call the whole thing off.

She watched him now with growing interest as he pushed the table before the sofa a little bit closer. When that was done, he walked across to a standing mirror and pulled it away from the corner in which it stood, moving the heavy thing across the floor until it faced Alexandra. Stepping back, he admired his work, giving it a faint nod of approval. He then reached up to loosen his cravat, his eyes seeking hers. God he was handsome—dangerously so as he stood there now, his hair more ruffled than usual, his eyes burning with something that turned her legs to mush and his jaw tightening as if he was trying desperately to rein himself in. His gaze drifted down until she realized with a start that they had settled on the gentle rise and fall of her bosom.

Was that a soft groan she heard?

She glanced up and gasped at the blazing heat that shone in his eyes, her hand absently reaching for something with which to support her weight before her legs gave out completely. There was something raw and primitive in it that sent an instant rush of shivers coursing through her body.

Regarding the odd arrangement of furniture, she wondered once again what he might have in mind. Clearly, he must be quite experienced, for she could not imagine requiring anything other than the sofa itself.

She didn’t have a chance to consider it for long, before he was beside her, his arm circling about her waist and drawing her toward him. There was no more room for thought, no chance to back away or to flee. With the confidence of a man who knew what he wanted and intended to have it, Michael lifted her chin with his fingertips, tilting her head backward until the soft promise of his lips was but a hair breadth away from her own. She quivered ever so gently beneath his hand and inadvertently caught her breath as she waited expectantly for him to make his move.

A moment later his tongue swept slowly over her lower lip—his hand falling to rest alongside her breast. Cupping her gently, he pressed his hand against her before crushing her mouth in a fierce, heart-stopping kiss that shattered the stillness. She was alive—more tantalizingly so than she’d ever thought possible. Without thought for anything other than that very moment, she allowed him to deepen the kiss, his tongue twisting its way around hers, stroking the inner depths of her mouth with seductive pleasure.

Alexandra groaned beneath his touch, reveling in the musky sandalwood scent that encompassed him while his fingers danced gently across her breasts. Feeling the friction of her gown’s fabric against her increasingly tender nipples as they strained against her bodice, she arched her back in a silent plea.

Michael responded immediately, lifting her onto his lap and bracing her back firmly against his chest as he began pressing tender kisses against the nape of her neck. “You have no idea how often I’ve thought of this moment,” he whispered against her ear. Caressing her head with one hand, he ran the other over each of her curves, all the while searing her skin with heated kisses. She gasped when he adjusted her position against him, and then again when he gently lifted her legs and placed her feet on the edge of the table in front of them.

An unfamiliar sensation swam through her. It was a hot and molten burst of desire that crept swiftly between her thighs, where it grew to a highly sensitized awareness—a wantonness and wickedness that surely would have shamed even a demimondaine.

With tender slowness, Michael’s nimble fingers unfastened the buttons of her bodice, until the back of it gaped open. Lowering his mouth against the curve of her spine he planted a row of kisses. All that remained to be done now, was for him to pull away the fabric that held her body captive—and he did so slowly, but without hesitation, exposing two perfectly rounded breasts in all their glory. “Mm . . . so beautiful,” he murmured as his hands slid over them, stroking and teasing while she pressed herself against his hands.

He kissed her neck once more. “Open your eyes, Alex,” he said, his voice was thick with desire. “Look at yourself—at how beautiful you are.”

She barely dared to do as he suggested, fearful that once she did, she’d be forced to acknowledge her shameful behavior. Yet she couldn’t disobey his needy whispers, and so she complied, her eyes locking onto his in the mirror, surprised to discover that her own state of dishabille, added to the thrill of it all, exciting her even further. Her hair was partially undone, a few loose strands draped carelessly over her brow, her bodice slightly askew. Fascination lit her eyes, and she relaxed completely, content with the knowledge that at that precise moment, this was what she wanted more than anything else in the world.

Abandoning her breasts, Michael reached down and took hold of the hemline of her gown, gathering the fabric as he pulled it upward until it settled about Alexandra’s waist, exposing the very core of her desire. “Ah, yes,” he breathed, his eyes wandering over her reflection while an impish grin played upon his lips. With gentle care, he placed his hands between her thighs, nudging her legs apart until she opened up completely.

Alexandra could barely breathe. Tingling warmth sifted through her most intimate part, giving way to a need she’d never before known and had never thought she possessed. She could scarcely believe that she’d allowed herself to fall into such a compromising position, but was perhaps even more shocked that it didn’t seem to bother her in the least. A deep yearning had taken root within her, and as a consequence, all her inhibitions had apparently vanished without a trace. “Please,” she now murmured, digging her fingers into Michael’s legs, her hips rising ever so slightly in search of something she couldn’t at all comprehend. “I don’t . . . I cannot . . . I . . .”

Running his fingers playfully along her inner thighs in a constant upward swirling motion, Michael pressed a kiss against her ear. “Shh,” he whispered. “Soon, my sweet. Very soon. Be patient and let me show you.”

Alexandra watched with growing fascination as Michael’s fingers slid over her.

Just when she thought she would surely die, he finally allowed one lone finger to trail its way along her sex. A tremor gripped her as he stroked her again, parting the soft flesh. A finger went in, and she sagged against him, her breath so ragged while an unearthly delight moved through her—wave upon wave in ever increasing intensity.

“Please,” she breathed, without knowing what she demanded. All she knew was that she needed something that felt so close she could almost touch it, yet somehow, it still remained out of reach.

“Soon, Alex. Just relax and let yourself go. Embrace your need.”

Raising her hips against the thrust of his finger, Alexandra felt the tension expand to a tautness that suddenly burst. Shivers of ecstasy rippled through her, sending her soaring on a wave of pleasure so intense and so dazzling that she knew she must have caught a glimpse of heaven.

T
he only thing that Michael could do was hold her. Alexandra had shuddered against him, voicing her passion with moans that had brought him close to the edge himself. No other woman could ever claim to have had such an effect on him. His blood had been on fire. Hell, it still was; his need so intense he could barely imagine not burying himself inside her. Yet he must, for her sake. This moment was about her—a lesson in sexual pleasure.

It had taken every cell in his body to rein himself in so as not to topple over. One thought reigned supreme in his mind however. He
would
marry this woman, if for no other reason than to experience this very thing every day for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, his line of thought came to a rather abrupt halt when a most unwelcome and extremely unpleasant sound echoed through the air—a knock at the door.

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

“A
shford, are you . . .”

The door swung open just as Alexandra managed to pull her skirts down and her bodice up in an effort to make herself just a tad bit more presentable. A second later, Ryan stepped into the room, the smile on his face falling away the moment he laid eyes on his sister. His whole countenance changed in that instance—his jaw clenched, his eyes darkened, and his lips were suddenly drawn tight in a grimace of complete and utter fury.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asked.

He did not shout or yell. Indeed, his voice was low and even more frightening than if he’d bellowed the question like a madman.

Alexandra shuddered, taking a small step backward while she clasped the bodice of her gown against her chest. She sensed Michael getting to his feet beside her, but she couldn’t look at him.

This was that most horrifying moment of her life. Her face was flushed; she could feel it. Her hair was in disarray, and her dress . . . well, to be frank it didn’t much resemble a dress at all anymore but rather a length of crumpled fabric that she’d hastily draped about herself. In short, her humiliation was complete.

Or so she thought.

“What does it look like?” Michael asked.

Alexandra could
not
believe her ears. Was he seriously about to embark on a verbal battle with Ryan? They’d been caught. The least he could do was apologize like any other reasonable gentleman.

Then again, no gentleman would have allowed for such a situation to arise in the first place,
she reflected.

No, Michael Ashford was a rake—a notorious one at that. He’d just made that shamelessly apparent. Then again,
she’d
been the one encouraging
him
. To be fair, she’d acted no better than a harlot.

“Do you want him to hit you?” she ground out between clenched teeth.

“He will do so anyway,” Michael replied, resigned. “And, having a hoard of sisters myself, I cannot think of a single reason why he shouldn’t. I only hoped to help him quicken his resolve.”

Alexandra gaped at him. “You
want
him to hit you?” She frowned, realizing she’d just asked that very question a mere second ago.

Michael grinned at her, just as Ryan closed the distance between them and buried his fist in his left cheek. He went down without pause, his grin twisting into something quite painful to look at.

Alexandra gasped. “Good God, Ryan,” she yelled as her eyes shifted between the heap of limbs sprawled out on the floor and her brother. He seemed to be more interested in attending to the reddening knuckles on his right hand, than he was in regarding his handiwork.

“Watch your tongue, Alex,” Ryan told her morosely. “I have had just about enough of you acting any which way you please. We’ve all done what we could to humor your antics, but we’re out in public now, not hidden away behind the walls of Moorland Manor. I won’t have you bringing our name to shame, no matter your excuses.” He let out a heavy sigh as he slumped down on the very sofa where Alexandra and Michael had just had their little tryst. He didn’t seem to notice and Alexandra was definitely not about to point it out to him.

“Should we perhaps help him up?” she asked as she looked down at Michael who was presently trying to pull himself together enough to stand.

“I believe he can manage,” Ryan muttered. “Do you know, I’m really quite angry with you, Alex, for putting me in a position where my only option was to bloody the Earl of Trenton’s nose.”

“Really, Ryan, it’s not as bad as all that. He will have a nasty bruise to be sure, but you didn’t bloody his nose.”

“Ah, then at least I have
that
to be thankful for,” he snapped sarcastically.

“Summersby.” Michael had finally managed to drag himself off the floor and haul himself into an empty chair. “I must apologize to you, though you ought to know her innocence remains intact.”

“I am so relieved,” Ryan growled. “You say it as if that makes it all right.”

“Well, I merely wished for you to know that as compromising as this situation might appear, there are certain things that even a man like me considers holy.”

Alexandra gaped at him. Was he really sitting there discussing her innocence with her brother?
Inconceivable!

Michael cleared his throat. “I like you, Summersby, and I am sorry, truly I am. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

“Like
this?”
Ryan arched a brow as he pushed himself out of his chair, his hands clenching into tight fists while he regarded his adversary with silent disdain. “That, Lord Trenton, would imply that you meant for it to happen sooner or later. It
implies
, that you had no intention of heeding my warning and staying away from my sister at all. Do I take your meaning to be correct, sir?”

“You
warned
him?” Alexandra cut in, drawing the attention of both men. They turned their heads toward her, and she shot them both a tight, somewhat awkward smile. “As you can see, I am still here.”

Michael smirked at her disheveled figure, his cheek already showing signs of puffiness.

Goodness gracious it looked painful.

Without comment, he turned back to Ryan, ignoring Alexandra and her loud sigh of annoyance. “As I was saying, I did not mean for it to happen like this. In truth, I meant to begin a courtship with her first. Unfortunately, it would seem we got a little . . . carried away. However, I would like you to know that, given the circumstances, I have every intention of standing by her and doing the right thing. I shall marry her as soon as we are safely back in England.”

“You’ll
what
?” Alexandra squeaked, staring at Michael in shocked disbelief.

Ryan looked suddenly transformed—a brilliant smile of relief lifting his features. “I’m so relieved to hear it,” he exclaimed, giving his soon to be brother-in-law a sound nod of approval. “So, very, very relieved indeed.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Summersby.”

Ryan gave a nonchalant wave of his hand. “Ryan, please.”

“Well, then you must call me Michael. Agreed?”

“With pleasure. However, I must apologize for hitting you. I lost it for a moment there. I’m afraid it’s beginning to look rather horrid, if I may say so myself.”

“No matter. It hardly came as a surprise, you know. But, I dare say a glass of whiskey might do the trick.”

“To numb the pain you mean?”

“What else?” Michael laughed as he patted Ryan on the back. The two men had begun heading for the door. “After a few glasses, I’m sure I won’t feel a thing.”

“I must admit I can’t abide the stuff myself,” Ryan said—his hand already on the door handle.

“How about a glass of claret then?” Michael asked, ready to follow Ryan out of the room.

Alexandra blinked. This could not be happening. She didn’t want to marry. Not now, not ever. It didn’t matter if the man proposing to save her from spinsterhood was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes upon. Indeed, it didn’t even matter that she had begun liking him, even if it was only just a little bit. She quickly reminded herself how much he annoyed her and that he happened to do so the majority of the time. Like right now for instance. Without as much as a glance in her direction, he’d planned her direct route to the altar for her.

Never mind her opinion on the matter. Clearly that was of no importance to Michael
or
her brother. And now look at them. They were best friends all of a sudden.

Really?

Did they have any idea of how ridiculous they appeared to an observer? After all, that was what she’d become. She’d practically been forgotten and it simply couldn’t go on. She
would
have her say whether they liked it or not, and she rather suspected that it was going to be the latter of the two. Straightening her spine, she uttered one word just as Ryan’s hand pushed down upon the door handle.

“No!” she said.

Both men turned their heads and looked at her in puzzlement. They’d either forgotten she was there, or they couldn’t quite comprehend what she was talking about. Both possibilities seemed equally likely in that instance—so much so in fact that Alexandra decided to quickly elaborate.

“I won’t marry you,” she explained.

“Won’t marry him?” Ryan asked in a partially choked voice. “Alex, you cannot be serious.”

“Oh, but I am, Ryan. Indeed I am quite serious. I won’t marry his lordship or any other gentleman who offers me a life consisting of little else than making babies and putting on a farce of the perfectly bred wife. It’s not for me.”

Ryan simply stared at her. Michael, on the other hand, looked angry. Surprisingly so in fact. “Have you lost all sense of reason,” he ground out. “You
must
marry me, for the sake of your reputation if nothing else.”

“My reputation?” Alexandra offered him a coy smile. “Really, how is my reputation to suffer? Nobody has seen us, save for Ryan, and he’s highly unlikely to mention it to anyone. He wouldn’t risk tarnishing our good family name for anything in the world. That leaves you, my lord, and you hardly seem the sort to spread gossip. Least of all gossip in which you figure quite prominently yourself. Am I correct?”

Michael stared at her, his eyes darkening into black thunderclouds.
Is it possible for a man’s head to explode?
she wondered with a small amount of curiosity while she faced him without pause. Michael’s head certainly looked as if it were about to do just that.

“We spoke of the consequences beforehand.” His tone held an iciness to it that seemed to have a more immediate effect on Alexandra than his expression did. A slow sense of anxiety began to form in the pit of her belly—an odd sensation that she hadn’t felt in years—not since she was a child. “I told you I would court you, and you agreed. Don’t pretend you did not know where such a courtship would eventually lead.”

Alexandra shrugged her shoulders, hoping that the gesture would distract him from noticing the panic that was creeping through her. “And I told
you
that a courtship would serve us nicely. It would allow us to engage in certain activities that might otherwise be considered improper. The whole affair would naturally have been called off the minute we returned to England. That goes without saying.”

Michael and Ryan seemed equally appalled by Alexandra’s outrageous confession. Neither man said a word for a number of seconds. They simply didn’t appear to be quite capable of processing the magnitude of what her words implied. Alexandra on the other hand, felt oddly pleased with herself. She was certain that she’d just achieved two very important things. Number one, she’d made it very clear that she had no intention of ever marrying anyone, and number two, she’d painted such a despicable picture of herself that she was quite confident Michael would run screaming in the other direction.

Her mind was quickly returned to the present however, at the sound of her brother’s words.

“Have you no shame?” he asked, pinning her with an accusatory stare that was clearly meant to make her squirm. “You’re . . . you’re no better than a . . . a . . . !” His voice was shaky, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. “I cannot bring myself to say the word that comes to mind, for I will surely regret it.” He shook his head in disbelief, staring at her as if he was seeing her for the very first time.

It stung more than any blow ever would. Perhaps he was right in his assessment of her, as hard as that was to accept. She’d lusted after Michael for days. She’d set out to purposefully lure the man into bed without any intent of ever marrying him. Now, because she was a woman, she’d backed herself into a corner by doing so. Panic gripped at her insides. She needed a means of escape.

“I wish to challenge you.” Michael’s words were spoken with composed calm in spite of the rage that still flickered in his eyes. They hung in the air, hovering between them so clearly that Alexandra was certain she just might catch a glimpse of them at any moment.

“I beg your pardon?” Ryan asked before Alexandra could manage it.

“Your sister has offended my sense of honor by prohibiting me from doing the only respectable thing I might have done in this instance. She has deliberately trapped me in a way that is bound to cause a great deal of disgrace to my family. Who in their right mind will think that
she’s
the culprit? No,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear his mind of the whole entanglement. “Everyone will point an accusing finger at me, especially given my reputation. So yes, as unusual as it is, I demand satisfaction.”

“You cannot mean that,” Alexandra whispered, her whole body going numb.

This was the man who’d kissed and touched her so intimately a mere moment ago, now challenging her to a duel. It was absurd.

She stared back at him and suddenly realized with abrupt clarity how much she’d truly wounded him. He did his best not to show it. For that she commended him, but his eyes betrayed him. Was it possible that he’d really
wanted
to marry her? It couldn’t be. She was sure he’d have grown tired of her by the time they returned to London. He didn’t even like her, and he couldn’t possibly think that she liked him—even if she did . . . just a little. Still, there was something undeniable between them and as she’d pointed out to herself earlier, perhaps she did like him just a bit more than she was allowing herself to admit.