Wildfire Kiss (15 page)

“Aye, no doubt it was a stud barn at one time. The
squire used to enjoy breeding his prime bloods, and this is where
he must have put the stud paddock—keeping them separate from the
mares, till it was time for … er breeding.”

“Oh, then I am trespassing on the squire’s
land …” she peeped at him, and he had the feeling she knew
very well that she was.

He suddenly stopped his horse and said, “Let’s walk
a bit …”

“Lovely,” she said.

He hopped off his horse and managed to get to her,
reach for her, and hold her trim waist as he helped her
dismount.

He hadn’t meant to press her so close—or had he? He
had meant only to lend a gentlemanly hand, but he didn’t seem to be
in control any longer. He held her against himself still; he held
on so tightly that he felt her full breasts through her clothing
and imagined them bared before him. His cock throbbed in his
breeches, and he wanted to rip off her clothing and …

When she looked up at him, he saw desire in her dark
gaze and knew he was most definitely lost in the moment.

He couldn’t stop.

You can’t stop—or won’t?
he asked
himself.

The next thing he knew he was crushing her in his
strong embrace. He bent and brushed his lips against her full,
delicious mouth, parting her lips so he could search out and find,
oh … damn, there it was, smooth and tasty … so very
tasty …

He slowly moved his tongue in the depth of her
mouth, teaching her with slow precision what he wanted, what they
both needed, and she responded wildly and with abandon.

He wasn’t the sort to be guided by desire. He had
always been in control, but he found he could not resist her kiss,
her body; he couldn’t resist all that she was.

She seemed more in control than he, more intent on
what she was doing as she managed to scramble out of her riding
spencer and, with it dangling from her hand, to throw herself once
more into his arms. He found himself unbuttoning her lacey blouse
and opening it wide. His mouth started to water.

She wore no undergarments, and he felt a pleasurable
surprise …

It reverberated in his brain:
she wore no
undergarments
. Had she hoped for this moment? The notion
spurred his primal need, and his libido took over, completely
banishing all logic, all thought as he bent and suckled at her
breast, fondling the other, He heard the rumble in his throat and
felt almost violent as he took what she offered.

“Oh!” she gasped. “I never knew how—oh …”

Her words thrilled him. She wanted him, even as he
wanted her, and then out of nowhere …

A clap of thunder!

When had the sky gone black? Where had those clouds
come from?

He took her hand and the horses’ reins and rushed
towards the shabby barn they had passed only a moment ago.

***

Sir Frederick sat up and stared at Miss Bretton as
she adjusted his sling to make him more comfortable. “There,” she
said with a soft smile. “Shall I bring you a light lunch?”

“Not if you have to leave me,” he said quietly.

She felt her cheeks grow hot. “Well, as to that,
only for a little while …”

“Not even for a moment,” returned the gallant.

She peeped a smile at him, and he patted the bed
with his free hand. “Come, sit near me …”

“That would be most improper,” she said as she
dragged a ladies’ chair near the bed. “This will do without raising
eyebrows, for you must know my aunt will look in on you any moment
now.”

“Will she? How kind,” Frederick said, sincerely
touched. “But you won’t leave … please do not leave.”

She laughed. “I shall use the time she spends with
you to fetch you a bite to eat, sir. You must keep up your
strength.”

“There is nothing wrong with m’legs, you know. I can
walk just fine, and did so in the early hours.”

“Yes, well, that is all well and good, but has
nothing to do with—”

“I can fetch m’own food, my love … is what I am
trying to say. I don’t want you waiting on me like this … not
the courtship I had in mind.”

“Sir Frederick!” Corry murmured. He was so open, so
forthright, so bold, and the quiet Miss Bretton was very much
impressed.

“Have I spoken out of turn?” He frowned. “I thought
you could not doubt my intentions.”

“I … I … but you have sustained a head
injury and—”

He barked a laugh. “And you think I don’t know what
I am saying?” He shook his head. “I know, but what I don’t know is
does my plan … offend you? I’ve made a botch of it. It was my
dream to go down on one knee in a garden of spring flowers and ask
you if you would do me the honor of becoming my bride.”

“Oh—oh …” whispered Miss Bretton.

“Has my clumsiness offended you?”

“Offend me? I am so completely honored and
overwhelmed …”

He grinned like a boy, and Miss Bretton admitted to
herself that Babs was quite correct. She was hopelessly in love
with Sir Frederick.

“You might not think so when I tell you more about
myself,” he said, suddenly looking grim.

“All I need to know—I see … I feel,” she said
breathlessly.

“I am humbled,” he answered.

“Humbled—why should you be humbled? Ah, grateful no
doubt that we stayed behind to look after you. It is what decent
people do,” Lady Jane said as she opened the door wide. She gave
Corry a disapproving glance for not already having the door open
more than a crack.

Miss Bretton remained placid in the face of her
aunt’s glance, saying only, “Ah, Auntie, now that you are
here … I shall go below and fetch Sir Frederick some
lunch.”

“Yes, you do that …” Her aunt busied herself
with shaking the drapes about and opening the window. “Hmmm. You
need some air …”

Corry swallowed a smile as she looked at Sir
Frederick’s horrified face and hurried off.

***

The duke tethered the horses to a nearby post and
watched as they calmly grazed on the grass at their hooves. He
turned to Babs and said softly, “It doesn’t look as though it will
last …”

She moved in closer to him and allowed the spencer
she had been holding around herself to drop to the old straw on the
barn floor. “What doesn’t look like it will last?”

“You are a tempting minx and have no idea what you
are getting yourself into, playing with me like that,” he answered
gruffly as his glance ravaged her breasts and his finger reached
and fingered her pert nipple.

“Oh, but I do …” she said as her hand traveled
over his hard chest.

“Sweet beauty,” he whispered. “You should run.”

“I don’t want to …” she answered.

With that—with the look in her eyes, the sway of her
body, the delicious scent that infiltrated his senses—he took her
into his arms once again. His kiss this time was driven with feral
resolve. ‘Feelings and desires’ won out, and he was helping her out
of her riding skirt … laying her down in the old straw around
them … throwing off his own clothes, whispering words he
couldn’t believe while moaning with hunger. “Babs … my sweet
innocent … I want you beyond all other considerations …”
He was out of his coat and waistcoat, his shirt flung aside, his
boots finally off, and on his knees over her with his huge shaft at
full attention.

“As I do you …” She glanced at his dancing cock
with wide eyes and lay back with her full breasts pointed at him,
her nipples hard, her body yearning.

He stared at her and then groaned as he bent over
her and suckled at her pink buds until she arched with
pleasure.

He moved over her, and his hard rod brushed up
against her naked belly. She whispered with desire, a desire that
drove him into a feral response, “Ah … I think you are as
large as a stallion …”

He laughed and was filled with joy as she reached
for his cock and touched it. His body trembled with heat and
pleasure as she stroked it, and he said, “Hold it … yes, like
that …” He put his hand over hers and taught her the motion he
wanted.

“Beauty … sweet beauty …” He moaned as he
pulled it away from her and bent to fondle her breasts and kiss her
again. When his mouth moved off hers he whispered,
“Delicious … you are the most delicious thing I have ever
tasted … I want you … now …” He put his finger into
the cleft between her thighs; she was dripping wet, and the
knowledge thrilled him. He moved his finger to her nub and worked
her until she was arching her back and bumping instinctively
against his finger for more, and so he gave her more with yet
another finger playing against her wet walls, finding the spot that
made her squeal with delight.

As he worked her, she groaned with pleasure and
pumped against his hand. He brought her to a shuddering climax and
felt a satisfaction he had never experienced before. He was filled
with joy—so much so, he nearly went off with her.

He controlled himself as he positioned the hard,
throbbing head of his dick to her pink-lipped opening and rubbed it
to the sound of her groans of delight. He found he wanted to please
her and go on pleasing her; he wanted her, and wanted, and he
fought back the word that came to his head over and over:
mine—mine—mine.

It was a primal emotion he had not experienced with
any other woman. She drew from him words he wanted to banish.

Instead, he was going to make this about lust, keep
it about lust. He was going to ram himself into her, take her
innocence quickly so the pain would be over in but a moment and
then replaced with ecstasy. He had never before allowed himself to
take a virgin, but this one was always meant to be his.

Why was he doing this? Why? Love? Was this love? It
certainly was more than any other emotion he had ever experienced
with any other woman …

The answer was there in his heart, because he knew,
absolutely knew that Babs Waverly, minx of all minx, was the
one—the only that he would ever … ever what? Yes, it had to be
love. He didn’t want it to be—was it?

And then he was inside her. He felt her flinch and
almost withdrew, but his little tigress clung to him and bucked
into him and allowed her instincts to guide her even as he held her
rump up and moved her with him.

She exploded again, and he allowed himself release,
but when they were done shuddering in each other’s arms, he knew,
he would never let her go … He would tell her … he had to
tell her, and the enormity of what he felt left the words stuck on
his tongue.

She looked up at him and said, “Oh, Nick …
I … I should not tell you this …”

He stopped her. He didn’t want her to tell him
first. He wanted to tell her, and he wanted to do it in his own
way. “Wait …” he said on a husky sound. “Not now …”

He saw her lashes flutter, and something about the
way she moved, the way she stiffened made him realize she’d
misunderstood. She jumped to her feet like a hellcat and began
dressing herself.

“La … but look … the sun is
returning … I had better hurry before I am missed,” she turned
to him and said, her chin up. “Thank you … so that is what it
is all about.” And the next thing he knew she was out of the barn
and mounting her horse.

What the hell? Just what the hell happened?
He answered himself with a sigh,
You happened.
Well, he
would make it right. He had to.

***

Babs came away from their encounter totally
devastated. She had thought she could be a modern woman, with
modern ideals. She thought that she could show him that he loved
her. Ha! She had been wrong, so wrong.

He not only didn’t love her, he didn’t want to hear
it from her either, Babs thought as a sob caught in her throat.
She was a fool
. She had thought if they made love, he would
have to admit his feelings to himself and then to her, but she was
wrong. He didn’t love her at all. He had warned her off early in
their introduction to one another, and
this was not his
fault.

This was her fault. She thought—she had been so
sure—that he loved her and that he would declare it to her once
they had consummated their feelings for each other.

Wrong!

She was the worst kind of fool, because she had
lied—tricked herself into believing only what she wanted to believe
and not what he had been telling her, that he was only in it for
‘fun’.

She had to get away from him and couldn’t allow him
to see how hurt she was. She would have to behave as though nothing
had happened and nothing ever would again … and oh, that hurt
as much as knowing he was not really in love with her.

Making love with him had been the culmination of her
dream. It was everything she had hoped it could be. He had brought
her to the edge and given her sweet release, and she would never be
able to do that with any other man. She knew that she was made for
only him—for her beloved Lord Wildfire.

The inn was in sight, and the sky opened up once
more. The downpour of the rain soaking her, covering her from head
to booted toe, helped her. She wouldn’t have to face a soul as she
ran to her room to get out of her wet clothes and change. She could
have a good cry—all by herself, for she would never tell anyone
about this day. She would keep it as a sweet memory … only a
memory.

And when they should chance to meet … tears
flowed freely down her cheek … she would behave as though
nothing had ever passed between them. She would laugh and jest and
give him no more than a passing remark as she moved out of his
reach!

Fifteen

SIR EDWARD HAD hired bachelor lodgings for the
Brighton season. They were centrally located, decorated in the
first stare of elegance and furnished with more style and flair
than comfort.

This singular thought came to mind as he attempted
to find some measure of ease in a wing chair situated by the bow
window, which overlooked the quiet street below.