Seduced by a Scoundrel (22 page)

“Is that all?” she asked. “Are you leaving me?”

His teeth clenched into a hard grimace of a smile. His gaze scorching her, he unfastened his breeches. “I’m far from done, my lady.”

Alicia’s mouth went dry. She knew she oughtn’t stare as he stepped out of his breeches, but she couldn’t look away from her first view of a naked man. The sheer size of him awed her, even as she felt a frisson of alarm.

He caught her chin in his hand and tilted her face up for a tender, compelling kiss. “Say that you want me,” he whispered against her mouth. “Say it.”

“I want you,” she said in a weakening rush of feeling. “Oh, Drake, I do want you.”

His breath hissed out between his teeth. He tugged at her shift, the fragile fabric tearing as he jerked it over her head. As her last vestige of modesty vanished, a mindless sensuality swept over Alicia. She slid into bed, the linens cool to her fevered skin.
Now.
Now he would draw her onto him like that couple carved in stone.…

He pressed her back onto the pillows and came down on top of her, letting her feel the power of a man’s body. She knew the shock of flesh on flesh, and then he kissed her again with a violence that surpassed her most romantic dreams. All the while, he stroked her intimately, fondling her in ways that made her twist and moan, pushing her again to the edge of a precipice.

He parted her legs with his knees, caught her hips, and held her still. Through the cloud of ardor, she felt a probing invasion, too thick and hot to be his finger. She knew his intent, then, and she gloried in it. Bracing her feet against the mattress, she arched to receive him. A feral groan broke from his throat and in one swift thrust, he breached her last defense.

A brief stab of pain melted into an amazing sense of fullness. He held himself on his forearms, his chest sheened with sweat in the candlelight. His eyes glittered against the harsh handsomeness of his face.

“You’re mine,” he muttered. “Mine alone.”

“As
you
are mine, too.”

The fierce vow escaped her without forethought. They stared at each other, both of them panting. Something flashed in his eyes, a starkness she couldn’t read. She didn’t understand herself, either; she knew only that a bond had been forged between them, a link that connected them by more than the flesh. If she belonged to him, then he also belonged to her. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

Stretching up her hand, she caressed his cheek, and his expression darkened with passion. He turned his head and kissed her palm; then he began to move. She closed her eyes to savor the incredible intimacy, the unimaginable pleasure. The heat inside her flared into a frantic, mindless urgency, and she cleaved to him, writhing, reaching for something she could not name. She cried out and he did, too, in the moment before she plunged, breathless, into great waves of ecstasy. An impossible rapture rolled through her, and she sensed him there with her, as if they were one being, one heart, one soul.

The flash of heaven faded, leaving her limp and replete. For a long while they lay entwined as their breathing slowed and their bodies cooled. She drifted in the sweetest peace she had ever known. His arm rested on her bare middle, and his fingers curled against the side of her breast. The weight of him was heavy, yet infinitely comfortable. She wanted to lie with him forever.…

She must have drowsed, for the next thing she knew, he was leaning over the bed, sliding his arms beneath her pliant form. She squirmed in protest, loath to leave her warm nest, but he merely chuckled and swung her up into his arms.

As she wreathed her arms around his neck, a distant noise puzzled her momentarily. Then she realized the connecting door stood ajar.

“The key,” she murmured. “How did you find my key?”

A self-assured smile slanted his mouth. “I didn’t,” he said. “I had another in my coat pocket.”

So, he could have entered her chambers at any time he chose. An uneasy sense of vulnerability crept into Alicia. She was at his mercy; she had always been at his mercy. And now that he had won the high-stakes challenge and seduced her, would he come through that door every night?

To her shame, she wanted that. She blushed to remember all they had done together, all the ways he had touched her. Like a slave to passion, she had lost control, moaning and twisting beneath him, her dignity abandoned in the heedless need to couple with him, to appease the hungers of the flesh.

“Don’t,” he growled.

Tilting her head against his collarbone, she regarded him warily. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t retreat into that prim, prudish lady. Tonight, she doesn’t exist.” Shouldering open the door, he carried her into his room.

Alicia thrilled to his masterful manner, though a part of her longed for the safe and familiar trappings of pride. “Beast,” she muttered.

“Beauty,” he countered in the seductive tone that raised chills over her skin. “You shan’t escape me tonight.”

His dark promise nestled warmly within her. As he strode across his bedchamber, the background noise grew louder. It sounded curiously like … flowing water?

He carried her through another doorway and into a room bedecked like a grotto with statues tucked among the ferns and pillars. Candles flickered in niches, adding a subtle glow to the scene, and water poured from a wall spout shaped like a dolphin’s mouth. As the liquid cascaded musically into a circular pool, steam rose in a fine mist that dampened her skin.

“A Roman bath?” she said in wonderment. “With piped-in water?”

“For my lady’s pleasure.”

He bore her down the steps and settled her on a shelf carved into the marble below the waterline. Little waves lapped at the undersides of her breasts. Heat enveloped her, relaxing her muscles and soothing the slight ache where he had made them one.

Unashamedly naked, Drake waded toward the spout and shut off the levers that controlled the flow. With a suddenness that startled her, he dove head-first below the surface and emerged at her feet like Neptune rising from the sea. Droplets rolled down his magnificently muscled chest, over his taut midsection, to vanish into the pool, where the surface of the water blurred the most intriguing portion of his anatomy.

Feeling flushed from more than the bath, she looked up to see a cocksure smile on his face. He knew his effect on her, the wretch. But she smiled anyway, beset by a wave of utter happiness. She let her doubts float away on the gently rippling water. She wouldn’t let herself think tonight. She wanted only to bask in his virile presence.

He combed his fingers through his wet hair, the slick strands gleaming like black silk in the candlelight. Then he sat beside her and leaned closer to tuck a few strands back into her drooping chignon. His action held a curious tenderness.

How astonishing to recline naked in a pool with her husband.
Her husband.
They were truly wed now, their union consummated. Her heart full, she said lightly, “What a marvelously decadent life you lead, Mr. Wilder.”

“What a marvelously decadent life you will lead, too, Mrs. Wilder.”

His gaze held the pledge of more pleasures to come. No wonder young ladies were kept in ignorance of lovemaking, she thought dreamily. If they were to learn of physical joy, they would crave it all the time.

A glint in his eyes, he picked up a cake of soap and lathered his hands. Slowly he massaged her bosom, sliding over slick skin, his thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks until her breasts felt heavy and aching. As longing swelled in her, she braced her palms on the marble seat to keep herself from melting into the pool.

His hands moved lower, washing her belly and thighs with scrupulous care. “How soft and delicate you are,” he mused. “I must have hurt you.”

“No, I’m fine,” she assured him. “Truly I am.”

He raised an eyebrow. “My dearest lady, I took you like a savage. I’ll be gentler next time. Now lie back and relax.”

A droplet of water trickled down his chiseled face. On impulse, she leaned forward and caught it with her tongue. He tasted faintly of salt, and she breathed in his damp, exhilarating scent. “I liked what you did to me,” she said. “I wouldn’t change a moment of it.”

His eyes gleamed a dark mysterious blue against his swarthy skin. “Alicia.”

Then he moved his hand exactly where she wanted it, his gaze holding hers while he aroused her. Soft sounds of enjoyment rose from her throat. She reveled in the lazy stroking of his finger, the slow rise of tension, the warm lapping of water against her breasts. She hadn’t known herself to be a creature of sensuality, or that a woman could feel such delight. In a fever of impatience, she brought her leg over so that she straddled him, her breasts moist against his chest, her aching center meeting his hardness. At last she understood the ecstasy of this position; it gave her the freedom to move against him.

Groaning out her name, he caught her hips and in a wild upward surge entered her. Water sloshed around them. Their lips met in an urgent kiss, their bodies straining, reaching for the pinnacle of pleasure.

When it was over, she lay spent and weak in his arms. His mouth drifted along her brow, leaving a trail of languid kisses. After a few long moments, he lifted her from the pool, holding her upright while he wrapped her in a soft towel. He bent his head to her hair and breathed deeply. “You’ve driven me half mad with wanting,” he said in a rough undertone. “I can’t get enough of you. You’ll sleep with me tonight.”

“Yes,” she said, her voice husky, her throat tight.

He took her up into his arms and walked to his bed, laying her down. The linens felt cool against her deliciously flushed skin. He blew out the bedside candle and settled himself beside her, bringing her close to the hearth fire of his body.

Drowsy and contented, she cuddled to him in the darkness, her head tucked onto his broad shoulder. His arm lay heavy and possessive over her stomach. As if in a dream, she felt his mouth against her brow, his lips gradually searing a downward path until he parted her legs for the most intimate kiss of all. His lovemaking was slow and sweet and strangely unreal, and she nearly wept from the beauty of it. He wielded a mastery over her body that was almost frightening in its intensity.

And in the quiet aftermath, as she drifted toward sleep, he held her within the strong circle of his arms as if he, too, could not bear for the night to end.

Chapter Sixteen

A streamer of sunlight awakened Alicia. The brightness crept through a narrow crack in the closed shutters.

She sat up, taking in her dim surroundings at a glance. A broad bed with a rumpled blue coverlet. Dark masculine furnishings. She had slept for the first time with her husband. Where had he gone?

The room lay in shadow, and the pillow beside her held a trace of his scent. Hugging it to her breasts, she let the memories of the previous night wash over her. Never had she imagined that she could behave with such unbridled ardor. An inner ache gave testament to the wildness of their couplings. Drake had made love to her three times, his caresses shattering her usual reserve. She blushed to remember how swiftly her defenses had fallen under his sensual assault. In his arms, she had become another woman, a creature of carnality, no longer a lady.

The troubling memory brought her fully awake. She blinked at the softly ticking clock on the marble mantel. Then blinked again. Two o’clock?

She had slept the entire morning away and nearly half the afternoon. And she wore not a stitch of clothing.

Disoriented, she rose from the warm linens, her muscles protesting. Could she steal back into her own chamber without being seen? A maidservant might be there, sewing or cleaning. Or gathering up the garments that lay strewn over the carpet, the evidence of seduction.

She quickly reached for a blanket to cover herself. Then she saw something lying at the foot of the bed. Her white silk robe. And on top of it, a perfect red rose.

A sweet pressure caught at her throat.
Drake.
He must have left them here before departing for his club. Picking up the flower, she closed her eyes and breathed in its rich scent. The velvet petals brushed her skin like the echo of a caress.
His
caress. Did he still desire her after their night together? Or now that he’d had her, would he turn to another woman?

Her heart aching, she donned the robe. She mustn’t forget that vows meant little to him. He was a charmer, this man she had married to avert disaster. He was a rake who knew how to please a woman. But he wouldn’t remain true to his wife. He believed this spark between them to be mere sexual obsession.

You’ve driven me half mad with wanting. I can’t get enough of you.

Her doubts wavered beneath a reckless rush of longing. How could lust explain the turmoil inside her, the yearning to fathom all his secrets? She wanted to know his thoughts, his hopes, his feelings. And therein lay danger. The last thing she wanted was to give him her heart.

*   *   *

All her life, Alicia had taken her troubles to one person. Today she needed to talk to someone who knew Mama well, to find out if her condition had been caused by traumatic events. But the moment she walked into the foyer of Pemberton House later that afternoon and hugged Mrs. Molesworth, all thought of her own worries vanished.

Exuding a familiar floury scent, the housekeeper stepped back, her sturdy fingers bunching her apron in a distraught manner. “M’lady! ’Tis time you’ve come to see me, and today of all days.”

Guiltily, Alicia said, “I should have brought Mama to visit, I know. And I promise I shall very soon—”

She paused, noticing for the first time the canvas that covered the floor of the drawing room. Scaffolding stood against the wall, and a painter balanced on the high platform, his brush whisking up and down, leaving swaths of yellow against the dull gray plaster. The acrid scent of paint hung in the air, and a distant hammering echoed from somewhere upstairs. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Gerald can’t afford to renovate.”

“’Tis your Mr. Wilder who’s payin’ the bills, m’lady. Fer fixin’ that rickety stair rail, and all the other repairs. An’ there be tables an’ chairs an’ all manner of furniture comin’, too.”