Wildfire Kiss (14 page)

She got to her feet and went to him, hand extended.
“Thank you, your grace …” She saw the look in his eye and
laughed. “Nick.”

He put her hand through his bent arm and said
softly, “Come then, and do me the honor of walking me to my
phaeton.”

She smiled up at him and thought
, Oh faith, his
devilishly twinkling blue eyes simply take all my plans and all my
logic and throw them to the wind.

“Will … will we see you during Frederick’s
recovery?” she asked on a whisper.

“You know, little beauty, you should probably stay
away from me.”

“Yes, I know,” she answered. “But I don’t know that
I want to … do you honestly wish me to?” Had those words come
out of her mouth?

He took a long look at her and then with a groan
pulled her to the side of the inn and had her planted against the
wall. They were well out of sight, as bushes flanked them from
view. “No, sweetheart, no. I want you in my way, but I make you no
promises beyond this.”

He bent and brushed his lips against hers, and then
as she threw herself into the kiss, he pressed her against his
body, swept a hand over her full breast, and pushed his bulging
cock against her. Babs felt herself transported into a world of
hungry desire. Was this her?

His kiss traveled into another, but then all at once
he pulled away. His gaze was filled with the primal heat he felt,
and he bent once more and kissed her neck, murmuring softly, “Hell
and fire, I want you, sweetheart …” His kisses traveled to the
fullness of her breasts just above her squared, low bodice.

She trembled at his touch and whispered, “I want you
too …”

Suddenly, he stepped away from her and held her
shoulders. “Forgive me … I am a devil to do this to
you …”

“But—”

He took her hand and pulled her along with him.
“No,” he said firmly. “This is not fair … you are too young,
too innocent … untried. I will not do this to you!” He set her
at the inn’s door. “Go inside, Lady Babs … get away from me.”
He turned on his heel and stomped off.

She was not hurt. She was not surprised. She found
herself admiring him even more. He was a man of honor …

He wasn’t the devil.
She was.

He more than wanted her, and she knew it inside her
being with all that she was. He loved her, and she meant to prove
it to him—one way or another. Lady Babs smiled to herself and
turned back to the inn.

Lord Wildfire had met his match.

***

The Duke of Barrington was at war with himself. He
could not remember ever feeling this way about a woman. He liked
women—very much—and it was more than a sexual thing. They were a
mysterious lot, each different from the other, but this one female,
this rough-and-tumble woman-child drew something out of him that
set his world upside down.

Marriage
—he knew it was something he would
eventually get to, but marriage was coming to mind every single
time he took her into his arms. He heard the word
mine.

The thought that she might give her hand to another
drove him past reasonable logic. He seemed to have more than a
physical desire for her. She had entered and tickled his mind with
her quixotic behavior, her rebellious outlook, her laughter, her
glittering dark eyes, and her sweet nature. Everything about her
called to him to give it up, but he didn’t want to end, like so
many, in a loveless marriage … seeking affection elsewhere.
When he married, he wanted with all his heart to be a faithful,
attentive, good husband—and father.

He wanted his woman—his wife—to be passionate in
bed. He wanted to satisfy her and be satisfied. He didn’t want to
turn to another. Would an inexperienced maid be enough for him?
Something shouted,
Fool! Babs would!

How could he be certain?

He had to be certain, and this couldn’t be a fancy
that might fade. He could not be led by his dick. And he wasn’t
sure whether or not it was real.

It simply had to be more than the raging hard-on
driving him to her. Was it more? Damn, he rather thought it was,
but how could he be sure?

Was he a cad to lead her on to give herself to
him?

Or was he a man falling deeply in love?

Where was the answer?

***

Adam and Eve was the name of a tavern in Soho, and
its galley was oversized and contained skittle alleys and cozy
arbors designed in the seventeenth century. Remnants of a small
pond that had for a time housed goldfish caught Sir Edward’s eye as
he passed. With a little care and grooming, he thought, it could be
brought back to its former glory. However, he didn’t really care.
He was here at this tavern, which was presently known for
entertaining persons of questionable character, for a specific
reason.

He looked about and with a knowing eye identified
the prostitutes, pickpockets, and footpads going about their
business of the evening.

Many of these individuals looked his way with
curious interest; he was sure they wondered what a well-dressed
gentleman was doing in their establishment. He had chosen to sit at
a round table shoved in a corner, with his back to the wall as he
watched and waited.

A man dressed in the ordinary costume of an office
clerk walked into the tavern, headed directly for Sir Edward’s
table, nervously looked around, and hurriedly took up a chair with
only a perfunctory nod of greeting.

Sir Edward leaned back against the hardness of his
wooden chair and drew on his cigar as he stared at the youthful
clerk seated across the table from him. He had to think this out.
What would this young man tell him, he wondered, and would it
further his cause?

“Oi looked into it for ye, Sir Ed—”

“Shut up, you fool—do not use my name!” snapped Sir
Edward.

“Aye then, oi looked into it, and of a certain, ’er
name was Waverly. Oi remember thinking whot a foin loidy she be
when she came in … didn’t know ’er name then, though. And oi’m
’oping ye don’t mean ’er ’arm … as she was kind enough to
bring me a pastry from ’ome …”

“Devil is in it that that I don’t mean her harm. I
should, for all that she has put me through, but rest easy on that
score. I don’t mean her any real harm,” Sir Edward answered,
believing this was actually true. What he meant was to marry her
and make her happy. He believed she was too young to know her own
mind, but he meant to make it up for her.

“Aye then, oi’ll be taking the rest of that purse ye
promised.”

“And so you would even if I meant her harm.” Sir
Edward sneered at him.

The youth’s cheeks spotted with red, and he shot
back, “As to that, oi ain’t plump enough in the pocket to go
throwing away the gold ye offered, and loikes oi told ye, oi can’t
be certain t’was her hand that penned the book ye speak of. She
brought it in, but Lord Byron was with ’er when she did … and
it could be ’is work … though why ’ee wouldn’t claim it …
is more than oi can say.”

Sir Edward pushed the purse towards him and got up
from the table. He was in a foul mood. She had pushed him to this,
and part of his mind railed against what he was doing. It would be
blackmail. There was no other term for it, and he had never thought
he would have to resort to this to obtain the hand of the woman he
desired. It was humiliating, and a part of him hated her for
that.

Sir Edward inclined his head disdainfully as he left
the clerk and made his way out of the disreputable tavern. Once
outside he sucked in air and frowned again. He would have Lady Babs
in his power …

And still, his pride was pinched.

He was the pink of the pinkest! He was sought after
by all mamas with daughters wishful of making a superb match. And
what happened? The one woman he wanted did not want him! Well, she
would learn to …

Hopefully, he would conquer her heart, but sadly,
she would be angry with him for using this piece of information to
force her hand.

She would get over it.

She did not have a choice.

By now his love would be in Brighton. He would
travel there in the morning, and he would seek her out and give her
his ultimatum … call her bluff.

He would have to make her see that he would ruin not
only her with this information, but her father, her aunt, her
cousin … all because of her. She would have no choice in the
matter! And then he would take the contrary Lady Babs as his
bride!

Fourteen

“BABS …” MISS BRETTON answered her cousin with
sugar sweetness coating her tone.

Babs eyed her warily. “Y … es?”

“Adone-do!” snapped Miss Bretton sharply. “I simply
won’t discuss this with you any further.” She started for the
bedroom door and actually made it to the latch before Babs dove at
her and stopped her with her hands on her hips.

“Adone-do?” Babs repeated in dumbfounded resonance.
“Adone-do? What? Are we slipping into Shakespeare and medieval
scenes? What can you mean, adone-do?”

“Enough—enough is what I mean. You have asked me at
breakfast, and hounded me ever since, if I am forming a
tendre
for Sir Frederick. I have answered you. Now that is
all there is. I … well yes, I do like him—but it is nothing
more.”

“Then why do you hover over him, watching to make
certain he eats his meals and drinks that vile tisane you prepared
for him …
yourself?”

Corry put up her chin and eyed her cousin with her
delicate brows arched. “That vile tisane brought down that awful
fever.”

“Yes, but—”

“But that is precisely why I made certain he drink
it. The sooner he recovers, the sooner we may all leave here,” Miss
Bretton pronounced in frigid terms. “Now, stop badgering me.”

“Corry?” Babs sighed and gave it up. “Very well
then, I shan’t expect you to confide in me … but life is full
of two-way avenues, isn’t it?”

Miss Bretton eyed her inquiringly. “What now? What
are you keeping from me?”

“Aha … two way avenues,” Babs said, moving away
from the door. “Go on, go do whatever it is you are itching to
do.”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“I think not,” Babs said thoughtfully. “I think I’ll
go take a ride on Chester … and explore the countryside for an
hour or so …” She eyed her cousin, and her voice was full with
a tease. “Go on, Corry … Sir Frederick may need
you …”

Corry puffed up with a swish of her form-fitting
green day gown and left her cousin to her own devices, which was
just what Babs wanted. Her father was belowstairs playing chess
with another guest. Aunt Jane was busy also with some embroidery
work in the reading room, where she declared the light was perfect,
and so Babs was free to head towards the stables.

She had the groom help her with her saddle, mounted
lightly up, set herself in place, and moaned silently that she had
to ride sidesaddle. She then headed towards the field she had
discovered flanked Squire Egerlly’s home.

After all, she excused herself with a fib, she was
simply taking a ride near the inn … nothing more. The duke was
probably busy with the squire, and she wouldn’t bump into him at
all.

What a depressing thought.

***

The squire had entertained Nick in his bedroom,
where they enjoyed breakfast together. His health was certainly
waning, and Nick was sorry for it, thinking that he was losing yet
another connection to his beloved father’s memory.

Leaving the older man to rest, he wandered about the
house, attempted to read the
Chronicle
, and gave it up with
a heavy sigh. She was in his head, under his skin, making his blood
tingle with need.

What was he going to do? He had to stop obsessing
about the taste of her tongue, the fullness of her breast …
the sparkle in her dark eyes! Stop! In his head, he heard someone
shout out for her …
Go to her, take off her clothes, take
out your dick, man, and—

What was wrong with him?

He didn’t seduce innocent maids—he just didn’t. He
had no honest intentions towards her, and yet, damn, he didn’t know
how he was going to get through the season with her bouncing about
in front of his face.

He strode hard towards the stables, not bothering to
put on his hat or even his riding gloves. It only took a moment to
saddle one of the squire’s horses, and off he went into the field.
His trot turned into a canter, and his canter suddenly was a gallop
as he headed for a line fence and took it into another
field …

The inn was in sight.

And so was the woman he lusted after … riding
towards him, her long black hair all about her beautiful face as
she cantered to a stop and laughed. She looked like a wild and
sensual woman, and he felt his cock make a demand … and damn,
he wanted to give in to that demand.

“Hallo. Were you headed for the inn … to see
Sir Frederick?” she asked him sweetly.

“No, I thought I would look in on him a bit later in
the afternoon,” he said softly. He found he could not stop staring,
first at her lips, down the length of her lovely neck, further to
the white piece of lace protruding from her buttoned navy wool
riding jacket. He wondered what she would look like naked on her
horse.

“Oh … then, just out for a ride …?”

“You could say that,” he hedged and allowed his
horse to fall into step beside hers.

“He is doing better, though … Corry gave him a
horrid tisane, but it did bring down his fever.”

Nick frowned. “He had a fever?”

“Oh yes. It started shortly after you left …
and he tossed and turned and … he called out for Corry over
and over.”

“Ah, my friend, no doubt is smitten.” Nick smiled
and thought he had never seen such luscious full lips. He wanted to
feel them beneath his own. He wanted to part them and dart his
tongue in to taste her once more.

“Charming countryside.” Babs attempted to make idle
conversation because her throat felt as though something was stuck
in it. She had to clear it in fact, before she pointed and
observed, “Oh look … that broken-down barn, it must have been
so pretty once …”