My Unfair Lady (25 page)

   She tried to wiggle down the rock, impale herself onto him.

   He wouldn't let her.

   His free hand moved back to her opening, plunged a finger inside as a promise, and then he stroked her nub, up and down, making her tense with the growing pleasure of her release. His other hand slid around her thigh and cupped her bottom again, cushioning her from the rock and lowering her until she could feel the round tip of him against her opening, holding her there against her struggles to enfold all of him inside of her.

   Summer held on to the back of his neck and looked into his light blue eyes, felt herself being drawn into them, into his very soul, while his hand continued to stroke and her opening throbbed wider in invitation.

   "You're mine," he said, bringing her to the brink of her climax and then slowing his strokes, keeping her suspended there. "You'll have to marry me now."

   A trickle of actual thought filtered past the over whelming sensation of her own body, and Summer opened her mouth to explain, to tell him that she'd only finished what they'd started. That she didn't want to be bound to him even more, that she'd realized this was the only way she could be free of him.

   But he lowered her onto him, just enough for her to feel the promise of his heat before he pulled out again, while his hand resumed stroking her nub, and the words she'd tried to utter turned into moans of ecstasy as she began to explode. He lowered her again, this time farther down his shaft, penetrating her deeper before pulling out, while the first tremor of her climax shook her. On the second one he lowered her again, and then again, until the pain she felt when he entered her fully was overwhelmed by the pleasure that still radiated from her center.

   And when he grasped her hips with both hands and began using his shaft to stroke her deeply inside, she felt another sensation growing and building. Not as piercing as the pleasure she'd just experienced, but more consuming in its intensity and greed, for she'd let go of his neck and grasped his bottom, pulling him against her, reaching for a fulfillment that centered not just on herself this time, but him as well.

   Summer wanted something from him but had no idea what it was. She climbed another peak but had no idea what would happen when she fell over it.

   He slid both his hands to her bottom and pushed her tight against him, until she could feel her nub rubbing against the heat of his groin, felt a lingering tremor of pleasure course through her as he stroked her entire body against his own, faster and faster until he threw back his head with a groan and exploded deep inside of her.

   And then Summer knew what she'd sought, for as soon as she felt his own pleasure, she fell off that peak, arching her back with the heavy throb of satisfaction that came from somewhere deep inside.

   He stared at her, those blue eyes boring into her own, his golden hair curling over his sculpted cheek bones, and smiled. "Tarnation," he whispered.

   She smiled back, ran her fingers through the light sprinkle of hair on his chest, and sighed with wicked delight. Furry little fingers yanked on her hair, and she looked up into the inquiring eyes of her monkey.

   "Go away," snapped Byron.

   India chittered at him, and Summer laughed as she disentangled herself from Byron and his jacket. She scampered up the rock to stare down at him. "Care for a swim?"

   He'd already hooded his eyes, that mask of superior indifference settling over his features. "I told you I have to leave."

   Summer stood and stretched out her back, arching her breasts toward the sun. She heard him swallow. Didn't he understand that they'd never be together again? "Don't let it end, not yet," she pleaded and dived off the edge of the boulder. Since she was ready this time, the water wasn't such a shock. She surfaced and managed to smile at him only by gritting her teeth.

   He shrugged and discarded the few items of clothing still sagging around his ankles, and clambered up the rock as well, standing with hands on hips. "I used to swim here, when I was a boy. How's the water?"

   "F-fine," she stammered.

   He cocked a brow at her in disbelief. Summer stared at what a fine sight he made in the sunshine, all hard ridges and soft hair, his stance proudly arrogant. Her body began to warm, and when next she spoke it was the truth. "It's getting warm in here."

   He threw back his head and laughed, his shaft already half-swollen from her scrutiny of him, and Summer thought he looked glorious. He took two steps and dived, surfaced with a gasp, and started to swim toward her with deadly purpose.

   "You're a wicked wench."

   Summer backstroked. "It's not that cold."

   "I am shriveled to the point of pain, madam."

   Summer's toes touched the bottom of the pond, and she stilled. Could cold water hurt a man that way? "Then get out!"

   He choked on a laugh, and his annoyance at her little trick faded. "Does that mean you care about my, umm, health, my dear?"

   "Well, of course. Not that it matters, anymore. I mean, it'd just be a shame because…" She started walking out of the water, still backing away from him. His frown of playful anger had turned quite serious.

   "What do you mean it doesn't matter?"

   Summer couldn't believe this; did he still not understand? "Because it's not like we'll ever be together again."

   "Why not?" His eyes glittered dangerously as he stalked her, the water evaporating from his body as if it were being cooked off.

   "Because I have to go back to New York. Nothing's changed."

   "Hasn't it? Didn't I tell you we'd have to get married, or weren't you listening?"

   Summer grabbed for her chemise and scurried into it. "Isn't it the woman who's supposed to be trapping the man into marriage about now?"

   "So what was all this?" His arms swept around the clearing at their scattered clothes, his jacket still draped over that shelf in the boulder.

   "It was inevitable, that's all. We just finished something that needed to be finished, in order for us to move on."

   "Move on?" He smoothed the hair back off his face, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. His face clouded with confusion as he slowly pulled on his clothes, but by the time he tied his neck cloth on, he had recovered himself. "You're not only a savage but a whore as well."

   Summer buttoned the front of her bodice, knowing that he had a right to be angry and expecting his wicked tongue to lash out at her. But he spoke with such calm detachment that his words managed to hurt her, and she hadn't expected that. "The blood on your jacket testifies to what I am, sir."

   He lowered his head, his eyes flashing, his hands fisted. "You're a fool to honor the proposal of this Monte person when he doesn't want you the way you are."

   "And you're a fool to propose to a woman just because of your honor."

   They both panted a bit, their heads lowered at each other like charging bulls, the air crackling with the electricity of their anger. Chi-chi charged his ankle, her little teeth burying themselves into the skin, and India jumped onto his shoulder and started pulling his hair.

   "Call them off before someone gets hurt."

   Summer gathered up her critters, who whined and moaned at her while the Duke of Monchester pulled on his boots. She tried to apologize for the way her animals had acted, but he waved it off.

   "They had every right. I should not have said what I did, nor acted the way I have." He took a deep breath. "You've always been honest with me, in your thoughts and actions. You just don't know that you're mine yet, and I regret my lack of patience with your stupidity."

   Summer's mouth dropped open. She couldn't even respond to his statement. He turned his back and walked away, yelling at her over his shoulder, "And wear a bathing costume in the future. For your own protection, I have men watching the grounds while I'm gone."

   Summer resisted the urge to ask him not to go again, while she watched him disappear through the trees. She tried not to admire the predatory grace of his walk, or stare at his wonderfully round bottom, to remember the way it felt in her hands. "Stop it," she whispered sternly to herself. "We're finished." Wasn't that the whole point of their encounter today, to end this longing for him? Or did it go deeper than that?

   Summer winced. It didn't matter, anyway. She'd made a promise to another man, and it would take more than one steamy afternoon to break it.

   A plump woman with a red nose and sparkling green eyes turned and clutched at her chest. "Ugh, child, you scared me to death. What are you doing skulking in the doorway?"

   Summer resisted the urge to deny that she skulked, and stepped into the room, breathing in the smells of the dried herbs hanging from the rafters, the delicious aroma of baking bread, and the mouthwatering smell of stew atop the black kettle stove. She liked this room and the sweet voice of this woman.

   "So, you must be Summer Wine Lee? Quite a name you've got there. Why would anyone call a child such a thing?" Summer opened her mouth to reply, but the woman just continued to chatter on. "And His Grace said you had a monkey too; now what would that eat, I wonder?" She stared in consternation at India, where he sat perched on Summer's shoulder. "Dogs, now, I know what to feed them. Even if one's a fox-dog."

   Chi-chi stuck her head out of Summer's pocket, and Summer dug both the critters out, letting them scurry across the floor to accept the ham bone the woman held out to them. It was bigger than both of them, but they managed to carry it over to a safe corner with their heads held high, tails wagging deliriously.

   Cook continued to talk away while she scooped out a bowl of stew for Summer, cutting off a chunk of fresh-baked bread and slathering it with lots of butter. Summer took a bite and closed her eyes with sincere appreciation, and then didn't mind listening to the woman's sweet voice while she ate her fill.

   "How's about an apple, monkey-boy? Ah, that's what to feed you, hmm? Don't choke it down; it'll like to get stuck. Now, Miss Lee, if you please, when you're finished eating I can show you around the old place, although there's not much to see anymore, not since that old man went and sold off all that poor boy's inheritance. Wasn't safe if it weren't nailed down." She wiped pudgy hands on her apron and tucked a stray hair of gray back into her bun. "His Grace said I was to treat you as if you was mistress of the place, so I imagine you two will be getting married soon."

   Summer choked on a bit of beef, and Cook slapped her on the back. "I apologize, Miss. Been out here in the country so long that I forget how to act proper with my betters. Just been me and that old buzzard, and I get so lonesome I can't stop talking when I see a new face."

   "Old buzzard?" Summer inquired.

   The woman colored a vibrant shade of red. "Oh, I meant Bernard, my husband and the glorified butler here. I'm sure you're shocked at my way of speaking, and I promise to do better, Miss. And now that you're here, I'll fix up the dining room so's you don't have to eat in the kitchen."

   Summer washed down the last of her luncheon with a final swallow of warm milk. "I like it here," she said as her eyes roamed the homey kitchen. "Please don't go to any trouble for me. I won't be here long."

   Cook's green eyes widened, and she cocked her head at Summer. "But His Grace said that until he caught whoever's been trying to kill him… My word, such wickedness! Now who would want to harm that boy, I ask you? Doesn't have a mean bone in his body; why, when he was a child he was always bringing home all sorts of forest animals that needed fixing up. Always thought he'd be a physician, but well, with the money all gone, he couldn't afford the schooling anymore, much less to do the traveling his heart had always been set on."

   Summer tried to hide a grin. She thought that if Byron had known how much of his life would be revealed to her by this one woman, he'd never have brought her here to stay. It seemed that all the questions she'd ever had about His Grace were about to be answered.

   "I really can't stay," insisted Summer. "I have to get back to London, whether His Grace gives me leave or not."

   Cook frowned. "Your companion, Meg, won't be fit to travel for some time, Miss. Quite a nasty bump on her head."

   
Poor Meg
, thought Summer. After all the girl had been through, she couldn't leave her alone among strangers to recover. She'd have to wait until her maid felt well enough to travel, even though her every instinct told her to leave this man's home as quickly as she could. To forget about the duke and go back to London to pursue the reason she had come to England in the first place.