Mandy (15 page)

Her heart began thumping hard within her chest. She jumped to her feet, but her knees threatened to cave and she held her palm against the stone wall as she tried to sound casual. Instead of light and unconcerned her voice came out of her throat with a squeak, before she was able to clear it and coherently say, “Oh—but you did give me a start.” Hearing the words stagger out of her mouth made her cheeks get hot while her mind got fuzzy. She felt a fool which did nothing to help her compose herself.

“Did I?” he said as he somehow moved in and towered over her. “I had no intention of doing so, but perhaps it may serve as a warning in the future, after all, it could have been anyone.”

He was infuriating. Here she was flustered by his big handsome self and all he could do was find fault with her. She put her hand on her hip and moved away from him saying over her shoulder, “I should have known you would start the day out with some odious remark. I suppose ‘tis in your nature.”

He managed to get in front of her and block her path, ignoring her words to ask, “Where are Ned and Chauncey? Why are you here alone?”

“If you must know, they went off to get some food…as our breakfast of dried beef was sorely lacking,” she answered on a sigh.

He frowned and repeated “Bloody dried beef, damn but I hadn’t realized that was all you had left.”

She saw it wasn’t a question as she watched his expressions flit over his face. He sounded annoyed which made her realize he cared to some extent, but she still could not get the snippiness out of her voice as she replied, “Indeed, dried beef and not enough of it at that.” She realized she sounded caustic and shifted her tone, giving him a fleeting smile as she added, “Chauncey got it into his head that he had to have pigeon pie and so they went off in search of it.” she chuckled.

“Of course, pigeon pie,” the duke said with a boyish grin. “And they left you behind and you are feeling a bit out of sorts.”

“They did and I am,” she agreed pleased to find he understood.

“Come Mandy, do walk with me. I should like to discuss something with you.” He offered his arm.

Mandy eyed his bent elbow. She took her knit cap up from the ground, slapped it off her thigh to shake loose any dirt and tucked her thick long hair up and under it.

She stared again at his arm, so large, so muscular and although she hesitated she did place her fingers on his arm. He took those fingers and pulled them through the crook of his arm and patted them.

His touch felt so protective and so very right. She felt that no harm could ever come to her when she was in his company. What was wrong with her? Why did she feel that way?

She peeped up at him and then down at herself and she giggled. It suddenly dawned on her that the picture they presented was absurd and she began to bend over with uncontrolled mirth.

“Whatever are you laughing at?” he asked, grinning broadly.

“If anyone were to see us…me dressed with my hair tucked under my cap and looking like a schoolboy and you…the big protective buck, oh…” she giggled and got the words out piece meal. “They…” giggle “would…think…we…present a very odd picture, indeed.”

He looked at her and said, his voice low and laced with a tone that made her shiver, “If you wish to look like a schoolboy…” he touched first the long strands of golden hair that had escaped her cap and then moved his finger gently down her neckline to where the swells of her breast were enticingly displayed because she had undid a few buttons just before he had arrived because of the heat. His eyes traveled back to her lips and then met her gaze, as he said, on a hoarse note, “you must don something a bit less revealing, for my pretty gamine, your exquisite proportions most certainly give you away.”

She felt the fire in her cheeks. She felt her body tremble with an excitement she told herself she must not feel, and then he took her hand from his arm and held it within his own and for the first time in her life, Mandy thought she might swoon.

She was wildly, insanely overcome. She was a shaking body of need. She wanted him to take her into his arms. She wanted him to want her, to kiss her, to touch her and make her a woman. Her mind, her body, her emotions were a ball of bursting need and that need was centered on him.

She lowered her eyes to the ground as he pulled her along and heard his sensuous voice as he told her, “Come, let us walk in the woods where we can not be easily discovered.”

“I…I suppose,” she faltered, bucked herself up and said, “No impropriety can be attached to my walking alone with my guardian in the woods?” If her words were meant to put him in his place, they fell short.

He snorted derisively, and then stopped to hold her shoulders. His face was drawn in a frown as he said, “No more than your meeting with Sir Owen yesterday.”

She gasped, “That was not intended.”

“I wonder,” he answered on a frown. “However, it might interest you to know that Sir Owen paid us a visit yesterday, at Wharfdale Manor…a most unusual visit.”

“What? Why?”

“Apparently Sir Owen feels that Skip is concealing something regarding his connection with Celia,” the duke offered thoughtfully.

She sighed, “He told me the same thing.”

“Do you think it possible?” he asked and she felt his penetrating gaze.

“All I know is that Celia was desperate…she was five and twenty and thought her chances to marry well were over. She was casting her lures so yes, it is possible that Skip was taken in for a time…”

“Indeed, he has admitted to having had a slight intrigue with the poor woman.”

Mandy went quiet. She may be still a maid without experiences, but she wasn’t a fool. She had seen certain glances pass between Skip and her cousin Celia when he came to visit. She sighed, “It doesn’t matter. Skip and Celia could only have been a passing fancy, nothing more.”

He frowned. “You are very loyal to him. How did he earn your high regard?”

She looked up at him and answered with a question, “He is a friend, are you not loyal to him? I thought the two of you were more than close.”

He waved it all away and said, “You are quite right. I don’t think Skip’s interest was anything but fleeting and does not have anything to do with the fix we find ourselves in.”

“Then why mention it?” she asked eyeing him curiously. He seemed out of sorts.

“Because your suitor, Sir Owens, seems to think it does. Owen thinks that Skip is cloaking his past and present activities in such a way as to hinder Ned’s chances of clearing himself.”

“First, Sir Owen is not my suitor! He is mistaken in his belief about Skippy—as I am certain you know.” Mandy’s hands were on her hips as she glared at him. It was so important that he understand she was not interested in Sir Owen. Why? Why should she care?

“Not your suitor? That didn’t seem to be the case when he had you in his arms…” the duke snapped.

“Had me…in his arms?” she was livid.

“Like this,” said the duke who then took her forcefully into his embrace.

Mandy made no push to resist. She didn’t want to. She knew she was behaving like a tart, but she wanted this and had hoped for this moment with him with all her heart. Why now would she resist?

 The look he gave her was full with hunger. His blue eyes seemed to devour her just before he brushed her lips with his own, gently kissing her, before that kiss became more insistent and she parted her lips to receive more.

His touch exploded a river of fire in her veins. She burned for him. His touch aroused her in a way she had never thought possible. It was as though she had been waiting for him all her adult life. There was no one like to him.

There was no feeling like the one he drew from her. He broke from the kiss but not to stop. He was gently touching his lips to her ears, to her neck, nibbling as she arched to his ministrations. What was happening to her? This was something she might regret in the morning? No…no regrets. She might forever yearn for him when he no longer wanted her, but for now…now he did want her and she wanted him.

“Why did you sit alone with him?” he asked hoarsely.

“I…he saw me…I had to make certain he wouldn’t give me away…”

“So you kissed him to make him keep your secret?” he demanded as he looked into her eyes.

“No, he tried to kiss me…I stopped him,” she answered roughly and put a hand to push at his chest.

“Don’t push me away, Mandy…don’t…” he said and his lips were on hers again, melting away all her anger.

When he came up from that kiss and nibbled at her bottom lip, he whispered, “You have bewitched me,” he groaned and then whispered her name again as his fingers undid the remaining buttons of her shirt. His hand slid inside and cupped her breast and fingered her nipple as his mouth closed on hers. She was lost to that kiss. It was all consuming. When he broke from it to lower his head and lick her nipple with his tongue she gasped with the sensation he had aroused in her.

She felt a tightness in her stomach and clenched her thighs, but his hand had moved to her rump and pulled her into him.

She felt the hardness of his manhood against her body and arched instinctively. She felt a ravenous hunger, a hunger for everything he was.

Everything about this felt right, felt meant. His body against hers was glorious wonder. Primal hunger rushed through her as her hands roamed his arms, bare now for somehow his shirt and waistcoat were gone. She stood back to look at him, but he was already taking her back into his arms, covering her lips with his own.

Her brother’s shirt lay on the ground with his, and he was bending his head to her bare breasts again, cupping them in his hands as his tongue licked at her nipples making them taut, making her yearn for something she couldn’t name. And then he was suckling there and she felt something building up between her thighs. Never before had she felt this way. She didn’t know a man could make a woman feel so good.

He had off her boots and breeches.

She stood naked before him and the look on his face banished all shyness and replaced it with pride. He made her proud to be a woman for his expression told her she was the most exquisite woman alive.

And then he whispered, “Ravishing, my love…I am your servant.”

He lowered her to the ground and was on his knees bending over her as he rained kisses down her neck, to her breasts, lower still to her belly, where he nibbled.

His hand cupped the cleft between her thighs and exerted pressure as he shook that area with deft movements and told her she was perfection.

His boots were gone, as were his breeches and she stared at the hardness of his shaft and the way it danced in anticipation above her.

He saw her looking at him and took her hand to softly say, “Touch this, touch me, precious beauty…”

And she did. She ran her hand up and down its length and then looked at his face with wonder as she whispered his name, “Brock…I am not sure what I am doing.”

“And yet, you thrill me more than any other woman ever has, my sweet, my little gamine,” he answered groaning as he took his hard throbbing shaft from her and set himself between her thighs.

She stared into his deep blue eyes. Everything about him pulsated with masculinity, feral and erotic. She wanted him. It was all that she knew. She might regret this later, but she didn’t think so. Would he regret it?

Her friends had told her that men liked to hear naughty talk in the bedroom and that it was fun. Would he like to hear it? She said softly, “I know something about what you want me to do to with your…
cock
.”

She felt his excitement rise as he said, “Do you, my beauty? What do I want to do with you with my cock?”

“You want me to…” she found she couldn’t say it as she reached for his shaft again, and went toward it, to lick its length and kiss its taut throbbing head.

He groaned and set her once again on her back. He nibbled at her lips as his hand went back to the opening between her legs and his finger slipped inside.

“That is what I want to do with my cock. I want to put myself inside of you and pleasure you till you scream out my name….”

His voice was lined with hard raw passion and it excited her. “Then do so, Your Grace.”

He grinned and said, “But first I want to taste you.”

He moved away from her mouth and spread her thighs apart to allow him to bend his head between her thighs which he raised by holding up her bottom. His tongue only lapped at her pink wetness at first and then he gently nibbled before he began a sucking and lapping motion.

She arched with her pleasure and all at once, as she climaxed in a way she had never thought possible, leaving her shuddering with after shocks, she did indeed call out his name.

“Aye then, beauty,” he said with great pleasure and then suckled at her nipples again, while his hands continued to explore her curves.

 “Brock—oh Brock.”

His voice was a husky whisper, “I love hearing my name on your lips, Mandy mine.”

Mandy mine?
Did he feel that way? Oh please,
faith
let him feel that way about me, she thought as she reacted to the finger that once again slipped inside of her.

Suddenly he worked her in a way that made her whimper with pleasure and unashamedly give herself to his hand, to the quick specific movements of his fingers, now two, inside of her.