Charmed By Knight (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (4 page)

“Brave, Your Grace?” Her heart banged in her throat, forming a lump that was hard to swallow.

“A woman traipsing out in a storm all alone hoping to catch the duchess’ entourage is considered quite brave in my book.”

She straightened, lifting her chin. “You enjoy brave women?”

“Of course.”

“Should you win, are you certain a kiss is all you will want?”

“It’s all I asked for, isn’t it?” He reached his hand across the small table and took hers in a gentle hold. His lean fingers caressed her palm in a soft stroke, sending warm shivers up her spine. His brows lifted. “And you, Miss Ramsey? Is a kiss all you want should you win?”

“Perhaps I will ask for more.”

“Go ahead.” He leaned back in his chair, his grin broadening. “Ask for anything you like.” He waved his hand through the air. “I do not plan on losing.”

Smokey blue eyes penetrated hers and a reckless thrill ran through her. He brought her hand to his mouth, and his lips whispered the lightest of kisses against her knuckles. She held back a sigh from the sweet caress of his tender lips.

“Now the rules are set, shall we begin?” His voice came out low and husky.

“I fear this is a most improper game.”

Mild laughter rumbled in his chest as he released her hand. He picked up the cards and shuffled. “It is, but that is the kind of game I play. The proper games the debutantes play nowadays bore me. I need something with a little more excitement.” He met her gaze from across the table. “I’m certain you’re tired of the staid life you have been leading also, or have I misjudged you?”

Had her heart stopped beating? He practically confessed he was no gentleman. Her mother assured her he was, but here sat an entirely different man. Megan couldn’t decide if that were a good thing, or bad.

With her back straight, Megan gave him her most daring smile. “Deal the cards, Your Grace.”

“I’m happy to see I have not misjudged you.”

She tried concentrating on the game, hoping to win – hoping he would win – just as long as there was a kiss. Fear shook through her just thinking about it. The heat inside her boosted a few notches in anticipation.

Every card she picked was a high card, and it surprised her to see four Aces in her hand. If what he told her about the game was correct, she had won. Lifting her chin in triumph, she smiled.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You, my dear, don’t have a face made for this sort of game.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“By the wide smile stretched across your mouth, I assume you have an exemplary hand?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “How do you know this is not a deliberate attempt to mislead you?”

“No, I’m certain it isn’t.”

“Then do you call?”

He laid down five cards, all the same suit, numbered in order. “If you can beat a small straight, then you have won.”

With shaky hands, she laid her cards on the table. “I have four Aces and a five of clubs. I suppose that means I win.”

“Yes, you do.” He shrugged, the corner of his lips lifted in a crooked grin. “I’ll now have to forfeit something.”

By his creased forehead and shadowed gaze, he appeared deep in thought. She observed his meditations in keen interest, but his eyes revealed none of his innermost thoughts. Finally, he smiled, reached up and loosened his cravat.

“It’s up to you. My cravat or a kiss.”

A cravat?
What would she do with his cravat? Yet she knew what she would do with a kiss. She swallowed hard, deciding to let the teasing game play on.

“I will take your cravat.” She grinned and took the article of clothing handed to her, its silky smoothness still warm from his throat. She placed it on her lap, and his musky scent wafted around her, heating her that much more. He gathered the cards and shuffled again.

The next game went as before, and she held four Kings.
Amazing.
She was better at this game than she thought. It was time for him to forfeit, and he once again pondered on this, biting his bottom lip during the silence.

A grin tugged on his lips. “My waistcoat or a kiss?”

“Your waistcoat.”

With a nod, he smiled and shrugged out of the garment. She knew his game. He was purposely losing.

“Why are you forfeiting your clothing?” she asked in a mocking tone.

“As I see it, you have more need for it than I. Doubtful your riding habit is dry as of yet.”

Accepting his explanation, Megan nodded.

Once the third hand was dealt, she held a royal flush. He’d tricked her! What other excuse could there be? She decided not to say anything, just to see where this led. As he unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it out of the waste of his trousers, she caught a breath in her throat. This wasn’t good; or was it? She had vowed to charm him the best she could, but now faced with disrobing a man in person, the thought made her feel a bit green – yet excitement bubbled inside her chest to know her parents’ plan would indeed come about.

“Your Grace.” She lowered her eyes as her cheeks burned. “I’d rather you leave your shirt on.”

“But Miss Ramsey, what would you have me forfeit? Are you ready for a kiss?”

“I…I don’t know, but—”

“Have you never seen a man without a shirt?”

Her face scorched with heat. “Once, I accidentally caught my father without a shirt.”

“I assure you, I’m built no differently.”

She dared to look up, and at that moment his shirt came off. Her mouth turned dry. He lied. He wasn’t a thing like her father. Her father would consider himself privileged to have even half the definition the duke had sculpting his wide chest.

A maelstrom of sensations flooded her mind, and she found she couldn’t remove her gaze from his masculine chest. His bronzed frame glistened with hardened muscles sprinkled with a few soft hairs.

Inwardly, she moaned and gulped a hard, dry, swallow. It didn’t register in her mind that he held out the shirt for her to take until he stood and walked to her. She should have paid better attention.

The shirt dropped in her lap and his masculine scent of spice and leather surrounded her. Bending over, he placed his face very close to hers. Hesitantly, she met his heated stare.

“You know, my sweet lady, you shouldn’t look at a man with wide, curious eyes, and a gaze that devours him the way yours was doing. It might give him improper thoughts.”

Megan swallowed again, this time seeming harder than the last. “Please forgive me, but…you look nothing like…my father.”

He chuckled, tracing his finger alongside her jaw before moving back to his chair. She breathed a little easier, but not much.

* * * *

Edmund settled in his chair and picked up the deck of cards. He tried hard to hold a straight face, but it was proving most difficult when she acted the way she did. Everything was falling together perfectly as if he’d orchestrated this plan for months. Surprisingly, Megan hadn’t noticed his cheating, but that, too, was part of his seduction. Now as the game was almost finished, it was his turn to win. Once she forfeited, he’d have her in his arms as he lavished her with kisses.

She wouldn’t fight. The way she’d ogled his chest let him know her wicked thoughts. She was a well-trained seductress. Well skilled at playing the innocent. So much like her father.

Edmund shuffled and dealt out the correct amount of cards, making certain she couldn’t win this time. Megan looked at her cards. By her sorrowful expression, the realization of having a bad hand was starting to settle in.

The firelight behind her tinted the red in her auburn hair, which contrasted her pale face. She definitely didn’t have the impassive countenance required for gambling. She wasn’t gifted at deceit, at least at cards. This was definitely different from her father. But in time, Saxton’s bad seed would rub off on his daughter.

For a moment, a pang of guilt pierced Edmund’s chest from the cards he’d dealt her. Perhaps he should have given her a full house. But when he imagined her soft lips against his in a heated kiss, he dismissed the idea.

She lifted her gaze and smiled through her saddened expression. “I would like three cards, please.” She slid the three she wanted to exchange across the table.

He nodded and gave her three. “And I’ll take one.” He lay his cards face up on the table. “I have four Jacks. What do you have?”

She sighed with a frown, her shoulders wilting as she placed her cards on the table. “I have two eights and two sixes and a King.”

He chuckled. “I’m relieved to see you’re off your winning streak.” He smiled wider. “What will you forfeit?”

She tapped her fingernail on the table for a moment, then her face brightened and she reached to her lap, pulling up his shirt. “I’ll give you back your shirt.”

He didn’t know whether to get upset or laugh. The little minx had tricked him, but she was correct in assuming she could return his clothes.

He took the shirt and smiled. “Thank you.”

Megan Ramsey was more clever than he gave her credit for. He wouldn’t make that mistake again because now he knew her game. She intended to return his clothes, forcing him to redress, but that wasn’t his plan. Would he ever get the kiss he so desperately sought? Strong desire mingled with his need for revenge.

“Are you going to put it on?” She gave him an expectant look.

He nodded, slipping it over his head and stretching his arms through the sleeves, but he didn’t button it or tuck it in his trousers.

Dealing the next hand, he put the higher cards in his favor. The game was called, and she had a small straight. He held four Queens.

Just as before, she handed over his waistcoat and he slipped it on but didn’t button it up. The next game, she handed over his cravat, and he hung it around his neck. Now he had her. This time when she lost, she’d have to give him a kiss. He dealt the cards again, purposely giving her the lower hand. She held two Jacks, a ten and two fives. He had a full house.

He grinned. “It appears you have no more clothes to return to me.”

She nodded without answering.

“So I assume a kiss is in order. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you would like to take off your robe?”

Her face flamed a brilliant red. He held back the laughter readying to erupt from his throat.

“No, Your Grace. I shall forfeit a kiss.”

Even though her mouth turned down into a frown, her eyes held a hint of excitement. She wanted this as much as he. And he would certainly give this woman a kiss she’d never forget.

He stood and moved to her side. Her gaze had dropped to her lap as her fingers twisted together as she portrayed a shy, innocent woman once again.

He reached down to take a cold hand in his, the soft whiteness contrasting against his dark tan. He pulled her to her feet, her reluctance showed through her stiff limbs. He would change that soon. She was good at this game, but he was better.

“Megan.” He lifted her chin with his knuckle. “It’s just one simple kiss. Don’t be frightened.”

Her lovely neck constricted in what was probably a hard swallow.

“If it will make you feel better, I shall claim the forfeit,” he said.

She nodded and remained silent. Her innocent act excited him more than he realized. Too bad he knew this was only an act. Once he had her in his arms, her true self would be revealed.

He bent and placed his lips on hers. She remained frozen, so he slipped his arms around her, pulling her closer. She stumbled into him, and her hands came up to his chest to keep herself from falling. Once she touched his skin where the unlatched shirt was open, he released a sigh. Waves of desire heated him quicker than expected, surprising him at the same time.

There was another sigh, and he wasn’t certain which one of them it came from. He bundled her closer as his mouth slanted over hers. Her kiss tasted of the sweet grapes she’d eaten earlier.

When she finally relaxed, explosions erupted inside his head. She surrendered hesitantly, answering his kiss almost as if she was unsure of herself.

Yes,
he answered back urgently.
That’s the way, my Megan
. The little minx was good. So very good. Her hands shifted to his shoulders and forearms, her lips moved against his with increasing abandon. He crushed her against him, enjoying the way she felt in his arms.

In what seemed an eternity later, he pulled his mouth away. Her breathing matched his mingled, raspy gasps. Though her eyes were closed, the corners of her mouth turned up in satisfaction.

Moving his lips to the side of her face, he brushed them back and forth across her skin toward her ear. Megan shivered and released a deep sigh. The instant she trembled in response, he tightened his arms, supporting her.

Lifting his hand to her nape, he stroked it, and then moved his kiss down her neck to her shoulder. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered as he pulled open the top of her robe to find more smooth skin. “I’ll stop whenever you wish.”

Another pleasurable moan tore from her, but this time she withdrew, the palms of her hands pressing into his shoulders as she pushed away.