Tempting Miss Allender (Regency Rakes 3) (27 page)

“Nothing seems to match,” Lucy whispered. “Over there we have an oriental display, and there Egyptian.”

Claire had warned both Patience and Lucy that this ball was usually something of a sensation due to the decorations, and most people attended out of curiosity. Last year had been a gold theme; everyone had been instructed to wear the color, and the entire room had been decorated in gold. It was hideous, according to Claire, and she’d left early with a headache.

“She has a pink flying horse hanging from the ceiling.” Lucy was looking upwards. “I can only guess, but perhaps it is meant to be Pegasus.”

Patience snapped her teeth together to stop her jaw from falling open. It was indeed a horse, and quite the largest horse she had ever seen, with a silver satin bow around his neckcloth. His matching silver wings were raised as if in flight, and Patience hoped the entire thing was secured well, because if it fell, it could do no end of damage.

“One hopes that does not fall,” Mr. Stanhope said echoing her thoughts.

“I believe I would like to dance, James,” Lucy said, still struggling to contain her giggles. Mr. Stanhope nodded, still looking around, his expression bemused.

“Miss Allender, please allow me to congratulate you on your betrothal.”

Patience stiffened as Mr. Dundrill bowed before her. He rivaled the horse as a source of amusement: he was wearing a lemon jacket and a silver and puce waistcoat.

“Thank you, Mr. Dundrill. As you can imagine, I am very happy.”

His frown told her he was not pleased with her reply, but as she did not care a fig for his feelings, she simply continued to look around.

“You are alone this evening. The marquis is still out of town?”

“He is.”
Now go away,
she wanted to snap.

“Would you do me the honor of standing up with me, Miss Allender? If I can no longer hold out the hope of seeing you across my breakfast table, then I shall content myself with holding you in my arms.”

“I never gave you that hope, Mr. Dundrill, as I have already explained.” Patience looked around, hoping no one was listening; the man had the loudest voice of anyone she knew. How dared he speak to her in such a forthright manner.

“A last dance, then, is all I can hope for,” he said loudly, which increased her embarrassment. To shut him up she agreed, but this was positively the last time.

Mathew flicked his cuffs and straightened his ring. She was here, and in seconds he would have her in his arms. He stood inside the doorway surveying the room, searching for Patience.

He’d been gone longer than he’d intended and had missed her desperately. The memory of her had tormented him day and night, and he had decided during his return journey that he would not leave without her again, no matter how many arguments she raised. He loved her, she him, and that was enough in his eyes.

He’d never felt this way about a woman before. He was consumed with her. He could taste her lips, feel her body and hear her voice constantly. They were going to be married, and soon, he vowed, because he was done with this torture.

Walking slowly around the room, he searched for her. Would she be as pleased to see him as he was her? Seeing the Duke and Duchess of Stratton, he headed for them. They might know where she was.

“She is dancing with that idiot, Mr. Dundrill, and does not appear terribly pleased about it.”

“How do you know that?” Mathew questioned Daniel as he scanned the dance floor.

“She is scowling,” Eva said, patting Mathew’s hand. “But then, I would be scowling too, were I dancing with that fool.”

The duchess was looking pretty in burgundy; she was touted as one of the most beautiful women in society, but to Mathew, Patience had no equal.

“I fear he is quite distraught now that you are betrothed,” Eva said. “As he was hopeful she would be the next Mrs. Dundrill.”

“The man is a fool to believe that,” Mathew said.

He had finally located his fiancée. Patience had her back to him. His eyes followed the slender curve of her spine beneath the material of her emerald gown. The fabric seemed to shimmer as she moved, and clung to her lush body. Her black curls were piled high and clasped in an emerald clip. He wanted to place his lips on the smooth skin at the base of her neck and roll the single silken curl that rested on her shoulder between his fingers.

He watched her turn his way, then stumble. She then offered him a smile that would light the darkest day, and he could do little to stop his own in response. The smile slipped as he noted the low neckline of her evening dress and the exposed swell of her creamy breasts. Damn his bloody sister and her meddlesome ways. He would stake his entire fortune that Claire had urged Patience to have that evening dress made to torment his already inflamed passions.

“Did you just growl, Belmont?”

He ignored the laughter from the Duke and Duchess of Stratton and kept his eyes on Patience until the dance ended. She ignored the hand Dundrill held out toward her and walked instead directly toward him.

“Hello, Mathew.”

They drank in the sight of each other, and Mathew knew if he didn’t get her into his arms soon he’d disgrace himself right here in front of everyone. Finally he managed to fill his lungs with much needed air. He was behaving like a besotted fool, and could do nothing to stop himself.

“Will you dance with me?”

She nodded and placed her hand on his arm. Thank God it was a waltz. Ignoring all the rules regarding distance, he pulled her into his arms and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of honeysuckle. One hand held hers; the other he placed around her waist and pulled her close, once again against the dictates of society. She slipped a hand beneath his jacket to steal up his chest.

“I missed you.” They said it as one, and then neither spoke again. Mathew simply held her as they moved in unison across the room.

As soon as the music stopped he guided her out onto the terrace. Once there, he continued down the steps, her hand now clasped in his, across the lawns and into the shadows beyond. Clear of any prying eyes, he swung her into his arms and kissed her with all the passion that had steadily built within him since he had left her. God, she tasted sweet. Placing one hand in her curls, he angled her head so he could deepen their kiss. He could feel every soft curve of her body as his hand slid down her thigh to lift her skirt and stroke the satin soft skin beneath.

Her moan urged him on. He cupped the rounded flesh of her bottom and pulled her closer. She rocked against the hardness of his erection and he thought he would explode with need. Tearing his mouth away, he traced the tender line of her throat.

“Please, Mathew. I need you so much.” Patience begged him to release her from the tension he knew was building deep inside her.

Looking around, Mathew spied a small gazebo, and he lifted her into his arms, strode up the steps and inside. When he closed the door he was pleased to see it had a lock, which he quickly turned. Lowering Patience down his body, he looked into her eyes. The moon gave him enough light to see the desire burning brightly in their blue depths. He unlaced her gown and let the fabric slide down her body. She stood before him pooled in moonlight, the satin chemise clinging to her breasts and caressing the lengths of her legs. “So beautiful,” he rasped as he lifted a hand to stroke a pebble-hard nipple.

Her groan made him smile, a purely male smile of appreciation. She wanted him. “Soon, sweetheart.”

He continued to stroke her, this time using both his hands. He rubbed the satin against her sensitive breasts and watched her long-lashed eyelids flutter closed. “Open your eyes,” he whispered as his hands swept lower.

“Please,” she said on a sigh.

“Please look at me, Patience. I want to watch your eyes as you come apart in my arms.”

He held her gaze by sheer force of will. He watched the depths of her eyes darken as his hand reached the curls between her thighs. “Patience,” he growled as her eyelids once again grew heavy, and her eyes snapped open. Sliding his fingers between her slick folds, he felt the satin grow damp with her dew. Her breath was coming in small pants as he touched the small nub and slowly rotated the silken fabric.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted.

Finally releasing her gaze he bent to take one of her nipples into his mouth and tugged, then pulled her chemise over her head and dropped to his knees.

“Mathew, what—”

The words fell from her lips as Mathew kissed her there. Parting her thighs, he ran his tongue down the damp folds and inside to tease and torment her.

“Oh my,” she sighed, gripping his hair in both hands.

Mathew didn’t reply; he was too busy tasting and tormenting his woman. He was so hard he felt ready to burst, but he wanted this for her, wanted her to remember what was between them. She fell apart as he added his fingers and combined that sweet torture, pushing her over the edge. Her body shuddered with its release, and only after the last shiver did he regain his feet to take her lips beneath his once more.

Patience felt her body stir as he kissed her, as the buttons of his waistcoat pressed against her naked body. He, however, was fully clothed.
We’ll see about that
, she thought with a secret smile. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and the buttons clattered when it hit the flagstone floor. Removing his waistcoat was just as easy; then she set to work on his necktie. After she had untwisted the fabric, she slowly worked the buttons of his shirt free. His body clenched tighter as with each button she released, she touched the smooth, exposed flesh, stroking it gently. With two tugs she had his shirt free of his waistband and pushed it from his shoulders. Moonlight glanced off the muscles and planes of his broad chest as she laid her hands on his warm skin and continued to stroke him. She touched every inch and reveled in his hiss of indrawn breath as she brushed his nipples, and soon her lips continued following the path. She placed soft, sensual kisses on his ribs and nibbled the tight buds on his chest.

Then she opened the front of his trousers and his erection sprang free. When she wrapped her hands around his length, he threw back his head, and she saw the muscles in his jaw clench as she stroked him.

“I woke dreaming of doing this to you again,” she whispered against his chest.

“So did I.” He sounded tortured. “I’m sorry, love, but I cannot take much more of that.” He lifted her into his arms, sat down on a small nearby bench and pulled her down onto his lap, her legs astride his thighs. She understood what he wanted and lowered herself onto his erection.

They both moaned at the delicious pressure. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Mathew hauled her closer. Patience cupped his face and kissed him, pouring everything she had not said into it as she rode him slowly. It was exquisite.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” Mathew groaned, rising to meet her.

“Yes,” Patience whispered as the delicious flames of her release grew higher.

Seconds later her body clenched hard around him and together they rose to the heights of passion and floated down the other side.

As their breathing slowly eased, she felt him reach behind his head and take her hands in his. He then kissed her fingers with a gentle smile.

“I missed you, my sweet Miss Allender, much more than I expected.”

“I love you, Mathew. Promise you will take me with you next time.”

“And I love you.” He kissed her lips again. “I had already decided that I will never again leave you for so long.”

“It’s so very different from last time,” she sighed. “All-consuming. I feel as if I am not myself anymore.”

“Last time?” His eyes held hers steady.

“I really don’t want to tell you this, but I’ve loved you forever.”

He touched her lips, tracing a finger over them, mapping their shape. “I like the idea of you loving me forever. The indomitable Miss Allender had a weakness, and I was it.”

“I called it a character flaw,” she said. “I don’t like the word ‘weakness’.”

When he’d stopped laughing, he said, “Why didn’t you want to tell me?”

“Because when you stomped on my heart years ago, I vowed to never let you know how I felt, and in fact, I believed that my love had turned to hate. But, alas,” she sighed, “that was not the case.”

“I would never willingly have hurt you, sweetheart. You have to believe that.”

“I do, and I know that a lot of who you were was because of Anthony.”

“Yes, but thanks to you I now have light where I once had dark inside me. You have changed me, Patience.”

She kissed him gently.

“Can you reach my jacket?” Mathew asked her.

She slipped off his legs, retrieved it and handed it to him. He smiled his thanks before pulling away and reaching into the pocket of the jacket. Then he took out a small box and handed it to her. “This was my mother’s, and she wishes for you to have it now.”

Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid and looked at the ring inside.

“It is the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.” She traced a finger over the oval emerald, encircled with rubies and set in a delicate gold band. “It is so beautiful, Mathew. Surely your mother cannot want to give it away?”