You, and Only You (18 page)

As Tiffany watched in wide-eyed fascination, a parade of
colorfully-clothed men playing a variety of musical instruments emerged from
the darkness of the trees.
 
As they made
their way to the fire it became readily apparent by both their exotic coloring
and atypical form of dress that they were gypsies.
 
“Oh, how wonderful,” she gasped, grinning
from ear to ear.

“Just wait,” Brendon said as he glanced toward her, flashing
a wide, knowing smile.
 

Within minutes the musicians had spilt into two smaller
groups, aligning themselves on opposite sides of the fire.
 
Then, as Tiffany gaped in astonishment, a
dozen barefooted women dressed in vibrantly-colored shirts and flowing,
calf-length skirts trimmed in jingling bells and sparkling beads burst from the
trees, dashing toward the fire, spinning and twirling, their multicolored
skirts flying wildly about their legs.
 
They encircled the fire, clapping their hands to the beat of the music
as they danced, the bracelets they wore on their arms and legs tinkling
melodically as they moved.
 
Watching
them, Tiffany marveled at their graceful, uninhibited movements and gazed in
wonder at their wildly expressive faces.
 
It was like nothing she’d ever seen before and she was utterly
transfixed.

From his position, hidden within the shadows of the house,
Alex found himself gazing far more often at Tiffany than he did at the exotic,
scantily clad women cavorting around the fire.
 
He’d discovered that when she turned her head to the side, he could see
her face, her profile lit perfectly by the brilliant glow of the leaping
flames.
 
He watched the changing
expressions on her face, delighting in the pure sense of joy and wonder
reflected upon her angelic features.
 
Would marriage truly be so terrible, he mused,
with Tiffany as his bride?
 
Only time
would tell, he supposed.
 
Lifting the
glass to his lips, he drank deeply.
 
Lowering it a moment later, he felt a slight fuzziness in his head.
 
Gazing at the heavy crystal tumbler, he
surmised that he’d had far more to drink that night, than he’d had to eat.
 

Oh what the hell, he reasoned, it wasn’t every day a man
found himself engaged to be married.
 
And
with that, he promptly drained the remainder of the fiery liquid, relishing in
the burning heat as it traveled down his throat.

Although the night air had been cool when they’d made their
way outside, it hadn’t been unpleasant.
 
Now however, as the evening progressed, Tiffany had begun to feel the
growing chill in the air, despite the heat emanating from the fire.
 
Glancing in the direction of the two footmen
who stood in attendance nearby, she thought to request one of them to fetch her
wrap for her.
 
However, looking at their
faces, it was clear to see that they were both engrossed in the goings on
before them.

Though she was loath to miss even a moment of the gypsy’s
marvelous performance, she understood that the life of a servant wasn’t an easy
or necessarily rewarding one, and she was reluctant to ask either of the young
men to do what she could easily do herself, not when they were so obviously
enjoying themselves.
 

“Will you excuse me for a moment,” Tiffany said to Brendon a
few moments later.

Turning, he looked at her in surprise.

“I shall be right back.
 
I’m just going up to the house to fetch my wrap,” she explained.

“You needn’t trouble yourself,” Brendon replied.
 
“I’ll have one of the footmen fetch it for
you,” he suggested helpfully.
 
“Did you
leave it in your bedchamber?”

Grasping his arm as he was about to rise, she motioned for
him to remain seated.
 
“No, no,” she
insisted.
 
“I would prefer to go
myself.
 
My legs could use a bit of a
stretch and it will only take but a minute.”
 

“Are you quite certain?”

“Yes, of course,” she assured him.

“Alright then,” he reluctantly agreed.
 
“But do hurry back, lest you miss too much of
the show.”

She nodded.
 
“I won’t
be long.”

Fortunately, she and Brendon were seated near the end of the
row, so her leave-taking drew little notice from the other guests as she rose
from her chair.

Whatever was she about, Alex wondered, as he watched Tiffany
rise from her chair and begin walking toward the house?
 
Straightening, he pushed himself away from
the wall against which he’d been leaning for the past quarter hour, swaying
ever so slightly as he did.
 
Looking at
Tiffany, so exquisitely beautiful in her ivory silk and lace gown, he couldn’t
suppress the rush of physical desire that flowed through his veins like molten
silver as she approached.
 
Stepping from
the shadows he moved into the moonlight as she drew near.

Detecting a movement from the corner of her eye, Tiffany
turned to see what it was that had drawn her attention.
 
“Oh, Alex, you startled me,” she gasped,
surprised to see him standing there.

“Forgive me,” he said apologetically.
 
“I assure you that it was not my intention to
frighten you.”

“No, of course not,” she acknowledged, smiling hesitantly.

“Are you not enjoying the performance?” he asked, though he
was quite certain that she was.

“Oh no.
 
That is, I am
enjoying it immensely,” she clarified.
 
“It’s just that I was becoming a bit chilled and was merely going to
fetch my wrap.”

 
“You needn’t miss the
show,” he said.
 
“You should have sent
one of the footmen for it.”

“Yes, I know.
 
It’s
just that…” she trailed off, embarrassed to admit why she hadn’t done exactly
that.

Alex eyed her curiously.
 
“Just that-?

Tiffany was glad that the darkness hid her reddening
cheeks.
 
“Well…they seemed to be enjoying
it so, and I…”

Despite the alcohol clouding his thoughts, understanding
dawned at once.
 
“You didn’t wish to
deprive them of their own enjoyment,” he finished for her.

She nodded bashfully.

“Not many people of our station would show such
consideration to a member of the serving class,” he said, surprise and
admiration evident in his tone.

“No, I suppose not,” she conceded.

Alex gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment.
 
“You never cease to surprise me,” he said,
his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

For a moment she seemed unable to move, held in place by the
sheer intensity of Alex’s penetrating gaze.

In that instant, Alex had the insane urge to pull Tiffany
into the shadows and once again taste the delicate sweetness of her full pink
lips.
 
Despite the warning bells clanging
in his head, he took a step toward her, wanting, needing to touch her, if only
for a moment.
 
Raising his hand, he
brushed his thumb along the line of her jaw, lightly stroking the soft, smooth
texture of her skin.
 
“You’re just as
lovely on the inside as you are on the outside, aren’t you?”
 

“I…” she trailed off, held breathless by the slow, gentle
movement of his thumb.

The sudden sound of the front door opening and closing,
immediately followed by the unmistakable patter of approaching footsteps,
startled them both.
 
Rather than
releasing Tiffany, Alex abruptly grabbed her around the waist and hauled her
into the shadows, spinning her against the wall and hiding her behind his large
frame.
 
“Shh, quiet,” he whispered
against her ear.

They remained perfectly still, waiting in tense,
nerve-wracking silence until the footsteps faded.
 
Releasing the breath from her lungs in a
faint exhale of relief, Tiffany could only imagine what might have happened if
they’d been discovered like that.
 
“I
think whoever it was is gone now,” she whispered, patently aware that Alex was
still holding her securely in his grasp, the entire length of his muscular body
pressed firmly against hers.

“Hmm,” he murmured against her hair, breathing in the faint,
floral scent.
 
She must have bathed and
washed her hair before dinner, he reasoned.
 

“Alex, I…” she faltered then, as he drew in a lungful of air
and then slowly released it, his warm breath like a feather-soft caress along
the sensitive column of her neck.
 
He didn’t
release her, but rather tightened his hold just the tiniest bit instead.

“You smell like lavender,” he breathed, brushing his nose
lightly against the silky texture of her hair.

She noted the unmistakable scent of liquor on his
breath.
 
Clearly he’d been drinking.
 
Was he foxed, she wondered?
 
Should she insist that he release her at
once, before someone else passed by and perchance stumbled upon them?
 
Yes, of
course she should!
 
But despite her
good sense, she foolishly ignored her better instincts and remained perfectly
still instead.
 
Then, as she felt the
soft brush of his lips against her throat, she couldn’t have moved even if
she’d wanted to.

Though he knew better, he seemed unable to help himself as
his lips skimmed ever so lightly along the curve of her throat.
 
“What is it about you,” he murmured, “that
causes me to lose all reason?”
 

The softly uttered question sent a delicious thrill racing
through Tiffany’s body.
 
In spite of what
had happened earlier, he still wanted her, and she reveled in the knowledge.

“Have you bewitched me?” he asked more to himself than to
her, as his lips moved to trail along the delicate line of her jaw.
 
“Is it a spell that you’ve cast over me?” he
mused, as his lips continued their wayward journey, placing feather-light
kisses along the softness of her cheek.
 

Tiffany could scarcely believe what was happening,
especially considering how they had left things that afternoon at the
cottage.
 
Was he toying with her, she
wondered briefly?
 
No, surely he wouldn’t
do such a thing, she reasoned.
 
So what
then?
 
Was it merely the liquor he’d
consumed or had something changed?
 
She
tried to focus, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as Alex’s lips drew
ever closer to hers.
 
When they reached
them at last, she was helpless to do anything but surrender.

Cautiously, he sought to gauge Tiffany’s reaction as his
lips began to move gently against hers.
 
She responded instantly, parting her lips in an unmistakable
invitation.
 
His control diminishing by
the second, he ravaged her lips and the inner softness of her mouth with a
passionate intensity; a sudden, unassailable hunger he struggled to keep in
check.

Reaching upward, Tiffany twined her arms about his neck,
pressing herself closer against him as she returned his kiss with a fervid
zeal.

Spinning her around, Alex pushed her backward, the seal of
their lips unbroken as he moved them further into the shadows until Tiffany’s
back was pressed firmly up against the wall of the house.

For Tiffany, the rough, stone wall at her back could have
been the softest of mattresses, for she felt nothing but the absolute pleasure
of Alex’s embrace.
 
In truth, if it meant
never having to let him go, she would have gladly stood there for eternity.

“God how I want you,” Alex uttered hoarsely, when he finally
dragged his lips from hers.

“Yes, please,” Tiffany sighed, no longer able to think
coherently, no longer able to think of anything at that moment other than what
Alex was making her feel.
 
Desire, not
unlike the burning flames of the distant bonfire, seemed to course through her
veins like liquid heat.

Reaching up, Alex grasped the shoulders of her gown and
pulled them downward, allowing her naked breasts to spill free from her
close-fitting bodice.

Tiffany gasped as the cool night air touched her exposed
skin, but the warmth of Alex’s hands swiftly chased the chill away.
 
Nuzzling her neck with his lips, Alex fondled
her breasts, running his thumbs in tantalizing circles around her taut nipples.
 
Clutching at his shoulders, she fought to
keep her legs from buckling beneath her.
 
But then, when he dipped his head, his lips working in connection with
his hands to intensify the exquisite torture, she quickly lost the battle.
 

As Tiffany sagged against him, Alex raised his head while
dropping his hands to her waist, keeping her upright.
 
Looking into her passion-glazed eyes, he
wanted desperately to lay her down upon the soft grass and strip every last bit
of clothing from her body.
 
But of course
he couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted to.
 
Even his drink befuddled mind recognized that.
 
Damn, but he had already allowed things to go
much too far already.