Until You (9 page)

Nicholas, acutely aware of her lush charms, despised himself for the direction his thoughts were taking.  Mentally cursing his body’s traitorous yearnings, he took several deep breaths to bring his rampant desire under control.  “Young lady,” he began with grim determination, “I am about to do what your grandfather clearly should have done years ago.” 

Ashleigh knew then for a certainty what was coming and began to struggle again in true earnest.  It was beyond horrifying to realize that the Duke of
Sethe
was about to give her a spanking as if she were a naughty child.  She twisted around so that she could see his face and the uncompromising set of his features convinced her that he was quite serious.  “You wouldn’t dare,” she said, unable to believe what was about to happen.  His expression hardened and Ashleigh began to panic.  “My grandfather will kill you for this,” she panted, her mind racing to find some means of stopping him.

“I doubt that,” he replied confidently.  “In fact, I believe your grandfather might just thank me.”  With that said he shifted Ashleigh to a better position upon his lap and prepared to deliver the first stinging blow to her backside.

As he raised his arm, Ashleigh briefly wondered how much protection her velvet riding habit would provide against his open palm.  She had her answer a split-second later when his hand landed with surprising force against her derriere.  Not much.
 
Damn him!
  She gritted her teeth in mute fury.  He could beat her black and blue before she would give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg for mercy.  Whatever attraction she might have felt for him vanished in an instant.  In fact, she didn’t think she had ever felt such absolute hatred for another human being as she now did for Nicholas Leighton.
 
But it was anger, not pain that suddenly had her battling back her tears.

Though she no longer struggled to free herself, Nicholas could feel the sudden and unmistakable quivering of Ashleigh’s body as if she were fighting to keep from crying.  He hesitated as his temper began to cool, and to his great surprise regret at his impulsive action abruptly overwhelmed him.  Realizing that his hand still rested mere inches above her bottom, he quickly pulled it away
.  Christ, what the bloody hell had he just done?
  Though she might behave as one, she most definitely was
not
a willful child.
 
She was a young lady, and what he’d just done was utterly inexcusable.
 
Though he’d acted out of fear for her safety, his own impetuous behavior was unpardonable and he knew it.
 
He hesitated for a moment and then reached for her shoulders, intending to pull her up, an apology hovering on his lips.  Unfortunately however, Ashleigh came up swinging.  Any words he might have said were lost as her small but powerful fist connected with his jaw. 

“You miserable rotten bastard,” she hissed furiously. 

Nicholas was so caught off guard that he toppled off the tree stump, taking Ashleigh with him.  They landed in a heap with Ashleigh lying pinned beneath his solid frame, her hat falling from her head and several of her curls tumbling free of their pins.  For a moment they lay unmoving, both of them momentarily stunned by the force of their landing.  The pain in his jaw was temporarily forgotten as he looked into Ashleigh's beautiful, enraged face.  Their gazes met and held, vivid green clashing with deep blue.  Glaring at him through eyes brimming with moisture she whispered, “I hate you!”

From the moment they had first encountered one another upon the grassy meadow, Nicholas had known that she was attracted to him.  Now, knowing who she was, he knew that he should feel relieved that her feelings had now turned to hatred, but surprisingly he didn't.  He felt the enticing curves of her body as she lay beneath him and suddenly wanted the hatred in her eyes to be replaced with the spark of desire he had witnessed before.  The impulse was insane.  They stared at each other in silence.  His eyes followed the track of a single tear as it slid slowly down her cheek, and he hated that he had caused it.  Slowly, and with surprising gentleness, he reached out and brushed the crystal droplet from her petal-soft cheek, completely oblivious to the warning bells ringing in his ears.

In stunned silence, Ashleigh watched the changing expressions cross Nicholas’ features.  She saw regret, tenderness and the undeniable flame of desire.  The feel of his thumb moving gently across her cheek made her catch her breath in wonder.  He slowly bent his head, and despite what had just happened, she knew that he was going to kiss her.  Instead of pulling away, her traitorous heart eagerly awaited the touch of his lips against her own.  The fact that she had professed her hatred of him just moments before vanished from her thoughts in an instant.  She had dreamt about this moment, shamelessly imagining what it would feel like to have his lips upon her own.  When it came, the kiss was unbelievably soft and tender.  It was absolute heaven. 

Nicholas brushed his mouth gently, almost hesitantly against Ashleigh’s lips, silently seeking her forgiveness.  He wondered if she would resist him, a part of him almost hoping that she would.  She didn’t.  In that moment he lost his last remaining bit of sanity.  As he deepened the kiss, she began kissing him back, her youthful ardor quickly stoking the fire of his smoldering passion.  His lips became more demanding, seeking a response, which she readily gave as his hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers delving into her tousled hair.

Ashleigh raised her arms and locked them around his neck, encouraging him, wanting more.  She was rewarded when his tongue suddenly coaxed her lips apart, and then moved deliberately into her mouth.  He plundered the soft recesses within, his tongue warm and deliciously invading.  She loved every second of the breathtaking new sensation.  Filled with a sudden, desperate need, she boldly touched her tongue to his, thrilled by his muffled groan of pleasure.  As their kiss deepened, a dozen tiny shivers went racing down her spine.

Hungrily, trembling in his arms, Ashleigh kissed him with every ounce of the new-found passion she possessed, reveling in the wondrous awakening of desire coursing through her body.  She clutched at the folds of his riding-jacket, clinging to him, pressing her body more tightly against his.  It was everything she had imagined and so much more.  When his lips moved to trail a path of fire along the softness of her cheek, and then to the graceful curve of her neck, her body arched wantonly against him.

His lips, his hands, they seemed to have a will of their own as they explored Ashleigh’s unbelievably soft skin and sumptuous curves.  He couldn’t stop, he didn’t want to stop.  He wanted her with a near desperate intensity he could no longer deny, an intensity that defied reason.  Though it would be an act of sheer madness, he wanted nothing more at that moment than to tear the clothes from her body and kiss every delectable inch of her lush form.

As she lay writhing beneath the duke's large, heated body, Ashleigh was scarcely aware of the outdoor setting.  The grass beneath her felt like the softest silk and the fragrance of the late-blooming wildflowers only added to the magic of the moment, filling her senses with their intoxicating perfume.  She ran her fingers through the softly curling hair at the back of his neck, “Nicholas,” she sighed in wanton pleasure, praying the moment would go on forever.  She knew then, with utter certainty that she was falling madly, helplessly, hopelessly in love with Nicholas Leighton.  His cool, calculated facade had fallen away at last, and in turn, he had effortlessly captured her young heart.  She felt as if she could stay within his arms for eternity and never want to move.

Perhaps it was the sound of his name on her lips, or maybe it was simply the years he had spent avoiding the snares of devious, cunning women, he really wasn’t sure, but something suddenly stopped him and sent him hurtling back to his senses.  With surprising difficulty, he pulled his lips from the soft, delicate skin of Ashleigh’s throat, and then wrenched himself from her clinging arms, throwing himself onto the grass beside her and dragging much needed air into his burning lungs as he stared up at the slow-moving clouds drifting across the pale blue sky.

Surprised and dismayed by Nicholas’ sudden withdrawal, Ashleigh turned her head to look at him.  He lay unmoving except for the repeated rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply in and out.   Pushing onto her elbow she gazed down upon his gloriously handsome face, and then slowly, she reached out her hand to touch his cheek, “Nicholas?” she said, her voice soft and slightly breathless.

He jerked away as if he'd been scorched by her touch.  “Don't!” he rasped, rising to his feet.

Ashleigh recoiled, shocked and hurt by his sudden rejection, and then watched helplessly as he walked away from her, running his fingers through his hair in agitation.

Bloody fucking hell!
Nicholas thought to himself in silent outrage.  What the devil had he been thinking?  Anyone could have come across them as they had lain blissfully unaware of the outside world, entwined in each other's arms.  It could have been a disaster of monumental proportions.  Never before had he lost his reason and control.  Never had he acted so carelessly and with such reckless disregard for the consequences of his actions.  He had allowed a beautiful face and ripe young body to rob him of his sanity, and it both shocked and infuriated him.

When he turned back to her moments later, his face was shuttered and his eyes had grown distant.  He had to stop this, and he had to do it now, for both of their sakes.
 
“You have my sincerest apologies, Lady St. John.  That never should have happened.  It was a horrible mistake, and I assure you that it will
never
happen again.”

The words were said with such cool indifference that Ashleigh felt as if she had just been slapped in the face.  She couldn't believe those dispassionate words were coming from the same man, who just moments before, had kissed her with such warmth and tenderness.  “A mistake?”  She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice as she rose to face him.  “No, it was…”

Looking at her wounded expression, he felt himself weakening.
 
He forced himself to cut her off.  “
It
was nothing more than a thoughtless impulse, and a highly regrettable one at that,” he said stonily.

Damn him!
  She stared at his handsome face, despising the icy facade he had donned once again.  How dare he kiss her like that, and then reject her with such a blatant lack of emotion.  Her pride was badly stung and her hurt quickly turned to anger.   “You bastard!” she hissed, glaring at him furiously, but his stoic expression remained the same. 

With a grumble of outrage, Ashleigh bent to retrieve her hat, and then turned to where the horses were tied.  He reached out and caught her arm as she tried to brush past him.  Angrily she jerked free, daring him with her eyes to try to stop her.

“You cannot return looking like that,” he said with quiet authority, noting that her clothes were sprinkled with pieces of grass and her beautiful curls were now a tangled mess, interlaced with tiny bits of leaves.

“Why ever not,
Your Grace
?” Ashleigh demanded scornfully, deliberately using his title, cloaking her anguish behind a mask of anger.  “Are you afraid someone will think that you drug me off into the woods and forced yourself upon me?”

His jaw clenched, his mood shifting in an instant as he was suddenly reminded of the numerous traps he’d managed to avoid in the past.  “Force?  I think not.”  He reached out and caught her arms, dragging her toward him so that her face was within inches of his own harsh countenance.  “Let me make myself perfectly clear,” he said, his tone slightly menacing.  “Better women than you have tried to coerce me into marriage, so if you think that by telling anyone back at the manor about what happened here today will force me into an unwanted arrangement, you are destined to be disappointed.  The only thing that you will accomplish is to embarrass yourself and cause my grandmother a great deal of embarrassment as well.”  

They glared at each other for several seconds, engaged in a silent battle of wills.  How dare he suggest such a thing?  The man was absolutely infuriating.  “I have no intention of telling anyone about what happened here today,” Ashleigh stated adamantly.  “Now let me go,” she demanded, struggling to free herself from his firm grasp. 

Releasing her arms, Nicholas stepped back, but then grabbed hold of her wrist as he turned toward the horses.  “If anyone mentions your appearance, tell them you were thrown,” he said, pulling her along. 

“Humph,” she snorted as she struggled to keep up with his long strides.  She’d never been thrown in her life.  Then, realizing that she couldn’t get into the blasted sidesaddle on her own, Ashleigh was further incensed when she had to turn to him for assistance.  As he set her in the saddle, she was sorely tempted to kick him with the toe of her hard, leather, riding boot.  Instead, she simply wheeled Raider around and galloped out of the forest without once looking back.

Nicholas stood watching her until she was out of sight, unconsciously rubbing his thumb along his bruised jaw and mentally cursing himself for letting things get so out of hand.  He hadn’t let his desires overcome his rationality since his youth, and again, he was appalled to think that a mere slip of a girl had made him lose control.  Ashleigh St. John was a danger to his mental wellbeing and he would do his very best to stay away from her in the future.  However, with her living under his roof, it was going to be a challenge.  “Christ,” he swore, as he pulled himself into the saddle.  “What a bloody mess.”