Leslie Lafoy (33 page)

“Will you be free to offer your arm to other women?” she countered.

“No, I’ll be faithful to you.”

For as long as he could, she silently added. For as long as she could be as boldly daring in private as she was primly proper in public.
Risk greatly, gain the world.

“Well, Mr. Carden Reeves,” she said, lifting her chin and placing her hands on her waist. “I don’t think it’s at all possible to make love in someone else’s conservatory without rumpling a skirt. You’re going to have to prove it to me.”

He’d expected her to ask to make her surrender at home, but had come prepared to fully accept wherever she might choose to give it. That she was boldly willing to take up his challenge right here, right now … He was the luckiest damn man who had ever drawn a breath.

“You’re not expecting slow and easy, are you?” he asked, grinning and unbuttoning his trousers.

Her smile was wide, her eyes bright. She laughed softly and arched a brow as her gaze dropped to his hands. “I gather I shouldn’t.”

Laughing with her, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips and then dropped down onto the chaise, saying, “Not this time, angel. Pretend you’re going to step across a wide puddle.”

“How wide?” she asked, lifting her skirts as he took the protective sheath from his pocket. Her lips parted as he covered himself and he heard her breath catch as full realization struck her.

“Second thoughts?” he asked, watching her face and gently taking her wrists. Beneath his fingertips, her pulse raced. “It’s not too late to stop.”

“Yes it is,” she countered laughingly, her gaze meeting his and holding it. “But I’ve never…”

“Ridden?” he guessed, grinning and drawing her across him, adoring her easy honesty.

Settling her knees on either side of him, she teased, “And if I should fall off?”

“Not to worry,” he promised. Sliding his hands under her voluminous skirts, up her silk pantalooned thighs and to her hips, he whispered, “I’ll hold you tight. Trust me, angel.”

Seraphina looked down at the moonlit angles of his face, into the dark wonder of his eyes, and knew to the center of her soul that Carden Reeves was the only man on earth who would ever possess her heart, the only man for whom she would risk all things. Releasing her skirts, she slipped her hands to his shoulders, and murmuring, “I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t,” she leaned forward and languidly trailed the tip of her tongue along the curve of his lower lip.

Had they been anywhere else, he’d have let her tease and torture him forever. But in the constraints of the situation, he had no choice but to silently promise them another time and place, gently take her shoulders, and push her upright. Slipping his hands to her waist, holding her firmly, he shifted beneath her and positioned her hips, then arched up, drawing her closer, watching her eyes as he found the slit in her pantaloons and mated them in a single slow, smooth stroke.

She gasped quietly, her eyes widening and a joyous smile lifting the corners of her mouth as a tiny shudder rippled through her body. Her obvious surprise at the pleasure thrilled him, filling his heart and somehow intensifying the luscious heat of her welcome. Seraphina. His exotic, ever-so-innocent, boldly daring angel. There was no other woman like her; not in his past, not in all of Britain. And she was his for the taking. For the giving. For as long as he could make her gasp, smile, and shudder with delight.

“Ride, angel,” he whispered, shifting his hips as he lifted hers. He brought them back together, hard and fast, straining upward, driving deep, and then instantly backing away. His breath caught as she seized control of the rhythm, drawing and joining, sending wave after glorious wave of sharply building sensation through him. His blood pounded hot into the center of his being and from deep in his throat he moaned, “God, yes, angel. Just like that.”

Closing her eyes, Seraphina’s world contracted into a breathlessly new, brilliant, and all-consuming awareness. The heat, the friction, the strength and fierce power of possession … Hers of him. His of her. It was wicked. It was holy. And it was everything and undeniable; riding the upward spiral of sweet fire was all that mattered, all the reality that existed in her universe. She fisted her skirts tighter and yielded to the pulsing rhythm of the blazing tide that engulfed her. It surged and swelled, relentlessly bearing her up, and she rose on the wave, gasping at the pureness of the pleasure, crying out at the desperate need that coiled through her and fueled the thundering heat searing her senses.

She was magnificent. Beautiful with unstinted passion, honest in her wanting. And he wouldn’t deny her hunger and need for all the world. Tightening his hold on her hips, he drew her close, holding her there as he increased the force and cadence of their ride.

Seraphina moaned and surrendered to the thrumming flood of potent sensation, letting it carry her forward and ever up, until, gasping and molten, she was hurled into a glittering universe of wondrously shuddering, body- and soul-shattering completion.

He held his breath, straining to control the crest, trying to stave off his own attainment to prolong and savor the stunning depth of hers. She was just easing back to earth when he caught the movement at the edge of his vision and delay became impossible. He arched up, driving deep, filling her, and surrendered his own control.

“Carden!” she gasped, tightening around him again, arching into his possession.

Fulfillment came hard and swift, tearing a moan from the center of his soul and saturating his senses. He desperately struggled to breathe, to claw his way back to the reality of where they were, to clear his vision so he could save her from certain ruin.

“I feel compelled,” she said softly, her breasts rising and falling in winded cadence as she smiled down at him, “to point out that my skirt is bunched in my hands. I’m afraid I’ve thoroughly rumpled it.”

God, that he had an eternity to savor the wonder of her. But he didn’t. “It takes time for wrinkles to set. And we’re out of time.”

“No,” she said, settling her hips closer.

The friction was exquisite, the temptation every bit as compelling as the danger was looming. “Yes,” he countered, quickly lifting her hips and shifting beneath her so that common sense had a fighting chance. “I can see the steps from here and Lord Fraylee is leading another man’s wife down this way.”

She squeaked and started and he caught her arms to keep her from tumbling to the floor in her haste to leave him. Choking on his laughter, he crushed her lips with a quick kiss and then set her onto her feet even as he turned her toward the rear of the greenhouse and whispered, “Out the back door. Now! Hurry! I’ll be right behind you.”

Sera ran, her skirts high above her ankles, her heart in her throat, her legs wobbly and weak beneath her. The door opened without resistance and she dashed through it and into the cool night air beyond. A small copse of trees lay straight ahead and with her last measure of strength she dashed into the safety of the shadows. Her hands braced against the smooth bark of an elder, she gulped air and waited for her panic to pass and her nerves to settle. She was insane. Completely, utterly, certifiably insane. And she had never, ever in all of her days felt as wildly, wickedly, deliriously happy.

The giggle rolled up her throat and she quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, desperate to contain the sound. Another rolled in its wake, growing into a full-fledged peal of laugher. She covered her mouth with both hands and tried to choke it back. And failed. They came in waves, rippling through her body and bringing tears to her eyes. Good Lord, she couldn’t breathe again. That realization went a small way toward sobering her, but not enough. She was still trying to contain her merriment and catch her breath when Carden loped into the shadows and caught her around the waist.

Whirling her about, he planted his back against the tree and pulled her hard against the length of him. She flung her arms around his neck and looked up at him, at his unholy grin, and then sagged into him, laughing silently as she buried her face in the front of his shirt.

“Are you all right, angel?” he asked, caressing her back and planting kisses to the top of her head, his heart hammering every bit as frantically as her own.

She looked up at him. “I hate corsets,” she rasped, mercifully too breathless for her giggles to make any sound.

Carden drank in the unbridled joy in her eyes, reveled in the sweet satisfaction of holding her in his arms. There was no other woman on earth like her. God only knew why she’d accepted him as a lover but he wasn’t going to risk losing her by looking for an answer any better than that.

“I’ll have you out of that corset as soon as we get home,” he promised. He cast a quick look at the house over his shoulder. Lady Luck had smiled on them so far, but he knew that with every second they tarried, they tried her patience.

“But right now,” he said, giving her a quick kiss, “you have to get back to the dance before Barrett decides to play protector and come looking for you. I’d really rather get through the evening without my nose being smashed.”

She didn’t want to go back to the loud and too bright world of Lady Hatcher’s ball, didn’t want to step out of the wondrous circle of his arms. But it was the price to be paid before he could fulfill the promise of being together again. She nodded and eased away, letting her hands slide down the solid strength of his chest.

He caught them and lifted them to his lips. Brushing a kiss over the back of each, he smiled and released them, saying softly, “Turn around, angel, and let me fix your hairpins.”

She obediently turned and let him set the loose pins, realizing that it was an intimacy no man had ever wanted of her before. Because Carden had no equal among all the men she’d ever known. And, no matter how long she lived or how hard she looked, she would never meet another man like him. “Carden? Thank you.”

“For fixing your pins?”

“That, too. But mostly thank you for making me feel so…” Sated. Wild. Gloriously special. She sighed. “Wonderful.”

He slipped his arms around her and nuzzled the curve of her shoulder. “So you’d be willing to do that again?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, looking up at him over her shoulder. “Can we?”

His grin was wicked. “I’d be more than happy to oblige you.”

“When?” she pressed, turning in his arms and threading her arms around his neck.

He laughed and gently set her from him. “Try not to look so deliciously blissful and find Barrett. Plead a headache or something, but get him to take you home. I’ll meet you there.”

Her eyes brightened. “In the conservatory?”

He must have sold his soul at some point and just didn’t remember it. No, Sera couldn’t be a gift from God. Only the devil would have given him the woman of his every hedonistic fantasy.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the front door. I’m not promising any room in particular.” He grinned and added, “Although I can think of several distinct advantages to a feather bed and satin sheets.”

She stretched up on her toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. The slow touch, the luscious taste of her, reignited the heat of desire.

“Go, Sera,” he said, firmly setting her away and holding her at arm’s length. “Now. If you don’t, I’m going to lay you down right here.”

“As threats go,” she observed, leaving him, “that’s not much of one, Carden Reeves.”

He laughed and Sera walked on, back toward the bright lights of Hatcher House. It didn’t matter if he loved her, she decided as she went. He made her happy with whatever portion of his heart he could give. It was enough. She was going to cherish every moment she had with him. And when the joy stopped shining in his eyes, she’d walk away with the most precious memories any woman ever possessed.

C
HAPTER
19

She stopped when she saw the two of them standing together beside the potted palms. Singly, either one of them wouldn’t have been daunting, but Barrett and Aiden together would require a great deal of mental agility and she wasn’t quite sure she was up to the challenge. Whatever chance she might have had of slipping away unnoticed was dashed when John Aiden turned, saw her, and grinned.

“Give me strength,” she whispered past a brave smile as she made her way to them.

“Seraphina!” Aiden exclaimed. “Every time I see you, you look more beautiful than the last. You’re positively glowing this evening.” He looked over his shoulder. “Isn’t she glowing, Barrett?”

“She is, indeed,” he answered, struggling to control his smile. “Moonlight walks in the garden seem to agree with her.”

She could feel the heat fanning over her cheeks and realized too late that she should have given the pretending-that-you-haven’t part a bit more consideration than she had. There appeared to be far more involved in the façade than smooth skirts and perfectly coiffed hair. Whatever that aspect was, she clearly wasn’t executing it very well at all. They both knew. She could feel it.

“Did Carden set a time for having you home?” Barrett asked, his smile breaking free.

She blinked, not certain how to respond, not sure just how far the pretending extended. Was she supposed to claim that she didn’t know Carden was there? Or that they’d accidentally met in the greenhouse and done nothing more than exchange pleasantries about the weather? Was she supposed to give up the pretense at the first suggestion that it was a failure?

She hadn’t thought to ask questions and Carden had assumed that pleading a headache would be sufficient. Looking back and forth between them, she confessed, “I honestly don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

The two men exchanged a quick look and then Aiden took a tiny step back and gestured for Barrett to proceed.

“Seraphina,” he began, “I know Carden. I don’t always approve of the things he does, but most of the time I understand why he does them. He would tell it differently, but the fundamental truth is that he came here this evening because he couldn’t bear the thought of your being out with anyone but him. And, most importantly, to put an end to it in his own inimitable fashion. He would have seen to the resolution the night Aiden escorted you out, but the tunnel business interfered. I just hope that you had the good sense to make some demands of him while you two were in the gardens setting matters straight.”