The Only One (5 page)

The afternoon sun blazed down in all her glory, warming Alex before she entered the cool shade of the stables. The sight that met her eyes knocked her heart to a roaring halt.

Bare chested, Giles stood next to his golden steed. Slightly bent, a dark lock of hair—the same sable highlights of her stallion—fell forward to block the side of his face. Dark curls generously spread across a masculine chest. He had the body of an imaginary god that she’d only seen on statues in the books in Papa’s library.

With a brush in his hand, Giles’ husky voice soothed Gent while he brushed the silky golden coat. Bulging muscles, covering his back and arms, flexed with each stroke across the horse’s flank. Warmth flowed through her center at how his muscles stiffened and released, only to stiffen and release again . . . and again.

Her eyes glued to his glistening, damp skin, Alex drank in the vision before her. She stood there, mouth agape, filling her eyes, amazed at how seeing a man’s body could thrill her so. Every shift of muscle across his bare shoulders made her throat close a little more. Powerful emotions swamped her, making it impossible to look away.

Quietly, barely breathing, unable to move, she stared. One of his hands held the curry brush and stroked the steed while the other smoothed along behind as if to caress. The softly spoken words Giles issued to Gent were having a delicious effect on her. She felt warm all over. Heat spread over her to settle low in her belly.

She must have made a noise, for his head jerked up and his eyes bore into hers. His fixed stare unsettled her. Heat flooded her cheeks. His lids shuttered, then he went back to the task at hand.

“Do you need something, Alex?” Putting the brush away, he lifted his shirt from the post.

The simple act caused her stomach to flutter. Where had her wits gone? She’d seen her brothers bare backed before. Watching Giles aroused sensations she’d never encountered. His naked flesh, springy black curls over an impressive chest, made her lose any coherent thought she might have had.

Buttoning his shirt, he stepped next to her with an expectant expression, as though he waited for an answer.

“Uh. No. Nothing.”

Giles turned, grabbed the leather lead of his horse, and settled Gent in a stall. He glanced back before leaving.

Alex sucked air into her lungs.

Chapter 8

Four days of trying to secure the duke’s attention, and he avoided her at every possibility. Alex had to get him alone. She refused to acknowledge what happened the last time the two of them were together. Her reaction appalled her. Oh, not the part of seeing him almost naked, and ogling him, and her mouth going dry . . .

The part where she lost her voice. Couldn’t speak.

The opportunity she’d been waiting for, even tried to arrange, and when her very wish arose in front of her, she’d acted like a little girl gawping at her first lollipop.

Time was not on her side. How could she demonstrate her womanly wiles in the presence of her family? Her father would not approve of her actions. He’d be mortified at the idea of his daughter chasing after an important guest. Her brothers would not aid in her brazen scheme. They might love creating mischief, and partook in some improprieties she shouldn’t know about. But when it came to her, their sister, each one had limitations on her range of freedom. Even though her brothers indulged her every whim, she could just imagine their reaction if she asked for advice on seduction.

A slight shiver rippled through her spine. What if she picked just one?

Kit was definitely out. He was the oldest and the most levelheaded. Sam was the youngest and the wildest. He might be a good choice if she intended to pursue every man alive. But she was only interested in one. She chewed on the end of her finger. That left Ben.

If she could get past the embarrassment of asking, she’d never survive the humiliation when he locked her up and told the others why.

Scanning her wardrobe, she debated on which gown to wear today. She hadn’t yet changed from her morning ride. Alex let out a huff and paced from her bed to the open window. What good would a dress do if she couldn’t get the duke alone? Pulling the curtain to the side, she glanced at the blue sky. A beautiful day.

Today would be the day. If opportunity did not present itself . . .

Her eyes widened as two riders appeared in her side vision. Papa and the duke, headed for the stables.

Giles might think her a little girl—but his assessment was about to change.

She ran from her room, hurried down the stairs and darted outside. By the time she entered the building, no one was in sight. She looked in each stall, to be sure they hadn’t stepped inside with one of the horses. Sadie snorted and nudged Alex with her nose. Voices drifted within her hearing as she walked closer to the back. Her brothers. When Sam mentioned Ben being with a girl last night, Alex’s attention went on full alert.

Slipping behind the door, she hid and peeked through its hinged opening. She knew better than to spy on someone, but how else was she to learn anything?

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Come on, Kit. How am I supposed to know if I’m doing it right?”

“There’s only one way to do it.” That was Ben.

“Show’s how much you know.” Kit sounded sure of himself.

“You mean there’s another way?”

Gee Sam, I’d like to know the answer too.

She recognized Kit’s, then Ben’s, laugh.

“What are you boys up to?”

Uh oh. Papa.

“Just jawin’, Pap.”

“You got back earlier than we expected,” Kit said.

“I have a meeting this afternoon.”

Alex angled her head to see better.

“I’ll take care of your horses.” Ben caught the lead of Papa’s horse, then accepted a leather strap from Giles.

Oh, no. He was coming inside. She hunkered down on her knees. Scooting back, she crawled to the tackle door, turned the knob, and crept inside just in time.

“Nathaniel Hardcastle owns a plantation a few miles south. He’s having a race come Saturday.” Papa and Giles were still in back.

Finding a shaft of light between the boards near the floor, Alex lowered to her elbows, and peered through the hole.

“No better way to examine stock than with an impromptu racing event. Several gentlemen will be there. Some to show off their steeds, some to bet on the outcome.” Papa settled his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam will be racing.”

“Brusor. A gelding. Three years old. The fastest horse around these parts.” She could imagine Sam puffing up his chest.

Huh. My new black could win.

Something furry brushed crossed Alex’s back and she jerked, hitting a bridle, which knocked into the others, causing a jangling noise. She grabbed the straps to hold them still, then glanced down at the cause of the commotion.

Tom. How did you get in here?

The cat purred and stretched his back. She quickly shooed him away and retook her position of spying. When she spotted Giles, her breath caught. He stared straight at the tiny opening as if he could see her. He must have heard.

Her father kept talking, so perhaps her guilt triggered her imagination. “. . . and most times he won.”

“Pardon me, Mr. Carmichael. You have a visitor. Mr. Dagatt.”

Papa’s manservant.
How many more people would show up before she could leave her hiding place?

“Yes, I was expecting him this afternoon.” James pulled at his gloves as he swung to Giles. “Sorry to cut our afternoon short. If you will excuse me.”

Finally, Giles pulled his gaze from her peephole. “Of course.”

“Kit. Come with me.”

Ben came out just as Papa and Kit left. “Sam and I are heading to the river. One of the steamers is bringing a few crates from New Orleans for us. Want to come along?”

“Thank you, Ben. But I believe I’ll enjoy looking over your fine plantation at my leisure.”

“Suit yourself. Come on, Sam.”

Giles swung open the door of the tackle room and halted abruptly. He found himself confronting a very fetching derriere in lad’s breeches. Propping one arm against the doorframe, he smiled to observe the little minx hiding, face down.

“Lose something?”

Alex spun around. “Uh, yes. Uh . . .”

“Or maybe you were snooping.”

She braced one hand on the wall and stood, brushing straw from her clothes. A mass of tumbling blonde hair surrounded her shoulders. Finely boned cheeks, touched by the sun, gave them color. Full pouting lips boasted a hesitant smile of seduction no young girl should have. And her body? Displayed to distraction in her boy’s clothes, molding and shaping every curve to perfection.

No man would mistake those curves for a lad.

Her dark brown eyes flashed. “I was getting a bridle.”

He stepped forward and lifted a leather strap from a hook. “This bridle, perhaps?”

She bent and scooped a grey cat into her arms. “Tom distracted me.”

Giles hung the bridle back on the hook and braced his hands on his hips. “Do you make a habit of spying on your brothers?”

“I was not spying.”

“Of course you weren’t. Judging from the conversation I interrupted, no young girl would know the subject they were discussing anyway.”

Her face flushed scarlet. He arched a brow. Surely she had no idea the boys were speaking of tupping a girl’s skirts.

“You’re handsome,” the chit stated baldly, expanding a breath as if she’d kept her mouth closed too long.

He didn’t know whether to be flattered or feel concern at a possible purpose behind her words.

“What do you know of handsome men?”

“My brothers, I guess are handsome. But they’re my brothers. I don’t care enough about other men to consider them handsome.”

Care?

“Why then, are you here?” He gave her his best glare.

“I’ve grown out of pigtails. I’m a woman now.”

Swallowing his amazement, he nearly choked. “Donning a dress does not make you a woman.” His gaze dipped in a slow, silent perusal. The damn girl’s breeches emphasized her curves, leaving nothing to a man’s imagination. And he should not even notice, of course, but . . . Damnation. She didn’t look the least like a child.

“I see you’ve resorted to breeches again. After your brothers’ reproaching insults, I would think you’d learned your lesson.”

She thrust out her chest. “Papa always said I had spirit. I am not unwise.”

“You think it wise to hide in a tackle bin? To be alone here with me?”

“You’re a duke. A gentleman.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “Being a duke does not make me a gentleman.”

“But Aunt Cornelia said English aristocrats live by their honor. You’re a nobleman. You have integrity, and morals.”

“Morals? Honor? A man lives by his own decree. What if I were to take liberties?”

“I can handle you.” Her eyes lit up and she seemed too sure of herself.

The gall of the chit.

With one quick movement, his hands shot out and jerked her against his chest. A gasp rushed from her throat, but she boldly held his gaze. With deliberate daring, his arms imprisoned her. He watched the emotions flitting over her face. He meant to punish, to teach, to frighten. His gaze lowered to her mouth.

He’d send her fleeing for good.

He captured her lips in a forceful kiss.

Her fingers twisted his shirt.

Good God, she kissed him back. With such enthusiasm, he was flabbergasted.

Unconscionable, that one so young should kiss with such skill. Had the damned girl been coached? She should slap him, call him a knave. Push him away, scream at him. Instead, she twined her arms about his neck while her warm, seeking tongue pirouetted in a mating dance with his.

Chest heaving, he grabbed her shoulders and thrust her away.

“Where the hell did you learn to kiss like that?”

Languorous eyes flew wide in surprise. And delight.

“So you liked it?”

Anger and bewilderment had Giles seething. His intention to scare the chit had missed the mark. Did the girl have no humility?

Her head tilted, she took a coy step forward. “I know you did.”

Was there no end to her audaciousness? This was not the result he’d anticipated.

Before he knew what she was about, she smoothed her hands up his chest and pressed closer. “Are you afraid of a mere kiss?”

“You’re too damned young to kiss a man like that.”

“
You
kissed
me
.”

“This is madness.” He pulled her arms from creeping further around his neck and shoved them to her sides.

“What? That you desire me?”

“How could a mere child know of desire?” He frowned. How
would
she know? Twirling her tongue with his, pressing her body against him . . . His head nearly blew off at the possibility the girl
did
know.

“I’m not a child.”

“You’re not a woman,” he nearly shouted.

“Then why did you kiss me like that? You kissed me the way a man kisses a woman.”

He couldn’t deny that. But his intentions had been honorable, meant to scare her away. Not create a yearning he felt all the way down to his toes.

“You can’t get rid of me so easily. I think your silly attempt to scare me backfired.”

Hoist by his own petard. By God, the woman was astute.

Woman?
His jaw cracked as he ground his back teeth.

“I don’t know what your game is, but it won’t work with me.”

“There is no game. I saw you years ago. I decided then I would marry you.”

Shock didn’t begin to describe his bewilderment.

Marry!
Obviously the brat had lost her mind.