The Hellion and The Heartbreaker (15 page)

When they finally arrived home, hours later, Scarlett forced
herself to stay in her room until the house had gone totally quiet.  It
was an agonizing wait.  When she finally slipped into Alec’s room, she
forced herself to appear unaffected, her carefully controlled expression
revealing none of her inner turmoil.  She found him casually leaning
against the large marble mantel that topped the fireplace, a knowing smile on
his face.

“Waiting up for me?”

The self-satisfied, slightly amused tone of his voice made
Scarlett lift her chin in feigned irritation.  “Actually I was sleeping
quite soundly, until I heard all the commotion.”  She tried to look blasé,
doing her best to appear merely vexed that her sleep had been disturbed. 
“The lot of you made enough noise to rouse the entire household.”

The answering twinkle in his eye told her that he wasn’t
buying her act.

“How unfortunate,” he teased.  “If I had known how much
you needed your rest, I wouldn’t have ignored the buxom blonde who kept trying
to catch my attention all night, or hurried your brothers home so quickly.”

Though she did her best, she could only hope that the relief
she felt wasn’t too evident on her face.  “Do you fancy blondes, Your
Grace?”  With her disposition vastly improved, she grasped an auburn curl
and began to slowly twirl it around her finger. 

“I’ve been known to upon occasion,” he murmured, slowing
moving away from the hearth toward her, a seductive smile on his lips. 
“However, I seem to have become partial to redheads as of late.”

“Have you?”  Scarlett inquired coyly, a saucy little
grin turning up the corners of her lips.

“Indeed I have,” he affirmed, his voice a husky whisper as he
reached Scarlett, sweeping her up into his arms in one fluid motion. 
Seconds later, he tossed her on the bed and showed her exactly how partial to
redheads he had become.

The day before Alec’s departure, they agreed to meet in the
stable for one last early morning ride.  When their mounts were saddled,
he on Brutus and she on her own beloved Mischief, they cantered out into the
crisp morning air.  The sun was shining brightly and the snow that had
blanketed the countryside was beginning to melt away.  Delicate crystal
droplets fell from the branches of frozen tree limbs as their icy shrouds
gradually began to thaw, and not even the slightest breeze ruffled the
air.  It was a beautiful day.  They rode for several miles in
companionable silence, enjoying their time alone, a rare opportunity outside
the concealing walls of Alec’s bedchamber. 

After a while, and once they had traveled a safe distance
from the house, Alec suggested they stop and walk for a bit.
 
Something had been gnawing at him for days, a
question he needed answered, a question he should have asked before, despite
the selfish cravings of his body.  After tethering their horses to the
limbs of a towering Oak, they walked only a short distance before Alec grasped
Scarlett’s arm, gently turning her to face him.  “Why did you do it,
Scarlett?”

He was looking at her so intently, his expression confounded,
as if he were trying to unlock a great mystery.  “What do you mean?” she
asked hesitantly, fearing she knew exactly what he meant.

He studied her for another long moment, his gaze traveling
slowly across the delicate plains of her face.  “You were a virgin. 
Why did you surrender your innocence to a man who can’t give you what you want,
what you deserve?”

Because you are not in the market for a wife
,
and because I love you
, she
answered in her head, the reply she knew she dared not say aloud. 
Instead, she countered with a question of her own.  “What makes you think
you know what I want?”

He hesitated for a moment, uncertain.  When he spoke,
his tone was dubious.  “You don’t want to marry, to start a family of your
own?”

“Perhaps,” she admitted, struggling to keep her tone
cavalier, her manner nonchalant, “someday.”

“You’re about to make your debut.  Every eligible man in
London will be begging for your hand.” 
And expecting to take a virgin
bride to bed
, he thought with no small degree of guilt.

“Every man but you, that is.”  She gave him a sardonic
smile, forcing a teasing lightness to her voice that she didn’t feel.

“Scarlett…”

“I did it because I wanted to Alec,” she told him, cutting
off whatever it was he had been about to say.  “I did it because you are
devilishly handsome, not to mention incredibly charming and witty, and
absolutely too tempting to resist.  I did it because I wanted to be with
you.  Isn’t that enough?”

“Is it?” he asked, his expression suddenly thoughtful and
tender.  Dozens of women had wanted him, but most of them had been older,
experienced women, women who knew the rules of the game.  For himself and
the women he bedded, sex was about pleasure, not emotion.  Despite the
bravado of her words, he feared Scarlett was in over her head.

Stepping toward him, Scarlett pressed her fingers against the
side of his face, looked boldly into his eyes and answered him with as much
honesty as she could.  “You have given me more pleasure than I could have
ever dreamed possible.  You’ve taught me what it means to be a
woman.”  Slowly, she trailed her gloved fingers along his jaw line. 
“I have no regrets Alec.”

“Then I am indeed a very fortunate man,” he replied.

“Indeed you are, Your Grace.”  Scarlett curved her lips
into a sexy, siren’s smile, a smile that now came as naturally to her as
breathing.  “In fact, I intend to show you exactly how fortunate you are
later this evening.”

Despite his apprehension, Alec could only hope that Scarlett
knew what she was doing, for he seemed surprisingly incapable of denying his
own, overpowering hunger for her.  “I can hardly wait,” he said huskily,
before capturing her lips in a soul-shattering kiss.

Scarlett wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep with her
back pressed firmly against the solid warmth of Alec’s torso, his arm wrapped
snuggly around her midsection.  She felt his thumb slowly stroking the
soft curve of her breast and hoped it hadn’t been long.  It was their last
night together and she wanted to savor every single moment.

She smiled, a sleepy, lazy little smile, as she felt his lips
brush against the sensitive spot at the base of her neck.  He gently
caressed the fullness of her breasts, brushing his fingers over her taut
nipples, and then gradually moved downward, his fingers sliding over her soft
curls and delving into the moist recess of her body.  She couldn’t contain
her small moan of pleasure as his fingers began to move in the slow, gentle rhythm
that her body now recognized and craved.

Alec knew it wouldn’t take long to send Scarlett over the
edge, but his throbbing erection, pressed tightly against her softly rounded
derriere, could no longer be ignored.  As he slipped his fingers from her
body, he heard Scarlett’s low whimper of protest and couldn’t contain the small
chuckle that escaped his lips at the sound.  His innocent young virgin had
quickly become a greedy, unabashed wanton.  He murmured softly in her ear
to calm her, and then grasping her thigh, he shifted her leg and slid into her
moist cleft.  Scarlett’s muted gasp of pleasure was nearly his
undoing.  He forced himself to slow down, wanting to savor each and every
moment of the nearly overwhelming anticipation of his release.

Scarlett’s breathing became erratic as Alec’s fingers once
again found their way to her auburn curls, stroking and rubbing as his rigid
shaft glided back and forth within her slick passage.  She clutched at the
bed sheets as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body.  The
feeling was so intense she wanted to scream in satisfaction, but dared not, for
fear that someone would hear her cry.

Alec groaned as Scarlett moved against him, undulating her
hips so that his shaft was pressed deeper and deeper into her feminine
core.  It felt so damn good, too good.  Their bodies fit together so
perfectly, as if they were made for each other.  Though he longed to deny
it, no woman had ever affected him quite so profoundly, not even the most skilled
courtesans in England, of whom he had sampled more than a few.  The young
woman in his arms had taken his desire, his passion, to an entirely new level,
and it amazed him even now.  Her little moans and whimpers were driving
him mad as she rocked against him, her movements growing increasingly more
fervent as she neared her climax.  He didn’t know how much longer he could
hold on.

Moments later, Scarlett pressed the back of her hand against
her lips to keep from crying out as her body convulsed in spasm after delicious
spasm.  The shattering ecstasy was so powerful, so intense, that it was
almost too much to bear.  In that instant, she was incapable of stopping
the tears that suddenly slid from her eyes and scarcely noticed when Alec slid
from her body as he found his own release.

Alec closed his eyes tightly; resting his forehead against
Scarlett’s naked back as he struggled to regain his senses after having just
experienced one of the most amazing orgasms of his life.  Once he was able
to think clearly, he reached for Scarlett, turning her toward him, only then
noticing the tears that streaked in tiny rivulets across her cheeks.  He
became fully alert at once.  Had he been too rough, had he hurt her? 
“Scarlett,” he whispered, tilting her chin upward so he could look into her
eyes, “What’s wrong?  Did I hurt you?”  She regarded him through her
wide, luminous blue eyes and silently shook her head.

Scarlett was incapable of speech.  How could she ever
manage to express in words how he made her feel?  That his lovemaking had
moved her to tears.  That she loved him more than she had ever thought
possible.  Even if there were words to adequately describe what she was
feeling, she knew she couldn’t utter them aloud.  Not yet anyhow. 
Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his
shoulder, holding on to him as if she would never let go.

Suddenly Alec understood, and the knowledge both pleased and
frightened him.  It pleased him to know that he had been the one to give
her such intense pleasure, yet he couldn’t help worrying that her feelings for
him were becoming more than physical.
 
She was young and still naive to the ways of the world outside the
sheltered haven of Grey Oaks, and he was her first lover.  She was bound
to confuse passion with love.  Though she claimed she wasn’t eager to wed,
he couldn’t help wondering if she was secretly hoping for something more than a
casual affair.

While Scarlett had been far removed from the jaded realm of
society, he had spent years amongst the fickle, bed-hopping members of his
social set.  He fully understood that the vast majority of marriages were
based on lineage, social status, power and wealth, and very seldom on love; and
that relationships outside of the marriage bed were based on mutual pleasure. 
Affairs were commonplace and those that engaged in them were mindful of the
rules at play, fully aware that love was little more than a silly romantic
notion and only served to complicate matters.

His parents had been a prime example of the folly of love, as
his mother often reminded him.  His father, she’d told him, a well-known
rake and libertine, had become enamored of her, the reigning beauty of her
time, and after a brief courtship had professed his undying love, swearing to
give up his philandering ways.  Of course she had fallen completely under
his father’s spell, certain that she would be the woman to tame his wild
ways.  However, not long after their marriage, her illusions were
shattered as the husband she adored gradually resumed his old habits.  She
had learned the hard way that true love only happened in fairytales. 
Determined that Alec never
suffer
the heartache she
had experienced, she had vigilantly prepared him for the reality of life within
the
ton
. 
“Don’t marry for
love my darling,”
she had told him on more than one occasion
.  “It
doesn’t last.  Marry a woman for companionship, even friendship, someone
who will be a good mother to your children.  Don’t be foolish and
impulsive as I was.  Follow your head and guard your heart my dear.”

As he’d grown older, he had seen for himself the truth of his
mother’s words.  How many marriages had he attended with a starry-eyed
bride and besotted groom professing their love for each other, only to
eventually become bored and disenchanted with their union once the novelty wore
off?  Men took mistresses whom they lavished with gifts and attention,
while their wives, after dutifully providing the requisite heir and spare,
found their own pleasure with lovers who pandered to them and made them feel
special.  It was a common occurrence, and for the most part an accepted,
though politely unacknowledged part of the lifestyle of the upper crust.

Like the more sensible members of the aristocracy, he
regarded marriage as more of a business arrangement than an emotional
commitment.  He would marry eventually of course, and when he did he would
do it for the right reasons, thinking with his head and not with his
heart.  If Scarlett believed in ever-lasting love and fairytale happy
endings, she would be disillusioned soon enough.  For her sake, he hoped
she wasn’t that foolish.