A Taste of Seduction (An Unlikely Husband) (20 page)

“But you ignored me. Every time I turned to look at you, you were busy with...” She couldn’t say the woman’s name, not now, so she settled for, “Other things.”

“A simple diversion that failed miserably.” He ran his hands along her arms, making them tingle once again.

“A brother would not have such feelings of...” she held her breath a moment and then forced out the word
jealousy
.

He didn’t deny it. “No, he would not. I behaved abominably this evening when you appeared in that gown.
So beautiful. So alluring.” His voice caressed her with such tenderness she could barely concentrate on his words. “I couldn’t tolerate the thought of men flocking around you, vying for a touch, a taste perhaps.” His fingers slid up her arms to stroke her neck.

His touch did strange things to her, making her long to feel his fingers on other parts of her body, doing what, she had no idea. But the need continued to build deep in the core of her.

“And a sister wouldn’t want him to have those feelings,” she murmured, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“No.” His voice turned warm as the night air. “No, she most definitely would not.”

He crushed her against his hard body. “I’ve waited so long to taste you again.” His head lowered to take her mouth in a kiss that spoke of want and need and a desire that throbbed just below the surface of reason. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her hands in the silky curls at the nape.

His tongue plunged into her mouth, mating with hers. He tasted of tobacco and whiskey and she wanted more. Slowly, she sucked on his tongue, as he’d done the last time they’d kissed. Alexander groaned and cupped her, hauling her against him. Swirls of desire pulsed through her as the rigid length of him ground into her heat in the same rhythmic motion as her tongue. His hands played over the soft fabric of her gown to stroke the backs of her legs and the rounded flesh of her buttocks. Oh, but his touch proved exquisite, sending shivers through every part of her body. And oh, how she wanted more.

When he lifted her off the ground, she clung to him, mindless of where they were going or who might see them. Nothing mattered but getting closer to this man, pressing her body to his, skin to skin. She ignored the rough bark of the tree against her neck and shoulders, the tiny pieces of wood digging into her flesh. Everything faded except Alexander’s hard body pressed against hers. And his touch. And his mouth. Oh, dear God, but she wanted more.

He worked his knee between her legs, urging them apart. Incredible heat rolled over her as he rubbed against her in the same slow
, entrancing movement. His fingers traced the slender column of her neck, trailing to the top of her breasts. Francie’s nipples turned to hard little peaks against the wisp of silk fabric. Alexander smoothed a finger over her breast, stroked the nipple through the material, and let out a low rumble deep in his throat. He inched the bodice down, exposing first one breast and then the other to the warm night air. When he broke the kiss, she moaned, her head falling back against the tree. A kiss that lasted forever with Alexander wouldn’t be long enough.

She watched him through half-closed eyes and when his fingertips brushed over her exposed flesh, she arched toward him.

He met her gaze, his silver eyes shimmering in the moonlight. He stroked her cheek and murmured, “So beautiful.” His voice grew thick and hoarse. “So very beautiful.”

Francie closed her hand over his. Then she turned it and spread his fingers wide, planting a kiss in the middle of his palm.

“And so…” He paused, taking her other hand and flicking his tongue in the center of her palm, “...responsive.”

She shuddered, weak and dizzy from his touch. He traced her lips with his fingers and
, lowering his head, took a nipple into his mouth.

She moaned, clutching his head with both hands.
Such exquisite, incredible pleasure. Alexander sucked and laved her left breast while his fingers stroked her right. He pulled away and sank to his knees, lifting her gown to expose her legs. His fingers skimmed the expanse of silk hose, searching for bare flesh, inching closer to her woman’s heat with each tiny touch. Francie held her breath as he hovered at the core of her. Wanton she may be, but she needed to feel his fingers on her. He cupped her with his large hand and she jerked against him, trying to control the scalding desire threatening to burn her up. He withdrew and worked open the slit of her pantaloons.

“Alexander, what are you doing to me?”

“Giving you pleasure, my sweet.” She closed her eyes and waited for his fingers, crazy with anticipation and need. But when his tongue stroked her instead, she came undone, hips jerking wildly as she exploded against his mouth. If he hadn’t clamped a hand over her lips, the whole of Drakemoor would have heard her release.

It wasn’t possible to move or even consider moving. Her legs wobbled and she feared she’d topple if she tried. Alexander stood up and gently pulled the gown over her breasts.

“Francie,” he whispered as he reached out to stroke her cheek. “I—”

“Alex! Alex!” her father’s voice bellowed from several yards away. “Where are you, boy? Francie’s missing!”

Alexander pulled his hand away and straightened his cravat. “I’m coming, Philip.” He turned to Francie and raised a finger to his lips. “I’ll sidetrack him and you sneak in through the servants’ quarters.” He gave her one fleeting glance and was gone.

“Stay where you are, Philip.” He wanted to give Francie enough time to get away. “It’s dark and you might hurt yourself.”

“Bah! I’d know this land blindfolded upside down.”

Philip was by the garden. Alexander hurried toward his voice, casting a quick glance behind him. No sign of Francie. He ran his hands through his hair and adjusted his cravat again.

“What in the devil are you doing out here?” the earl asked, his large arms folded over his stomach. “I need your help. Francie’s missing.”

“She’s fine,” Alexander said. “She’s in her room. She just had a little upset.” He cleared his throat. “Jared Crayton was here.”

“Damn! How the hell did that happen?”

Alexander shrugged. “He was determined to see her. He just showed up.”

“He’s got to be stopped.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about Crayton anymore,” Alexander said. “I handled the situation.”

“Nailed him, did you?”

“He couldn’t get a word out between all the moans and groans.”

“Good boy.” The earl chuckled and moved closer. His voice grew serious. “Thank you, Alex.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“I’m sure Francie is grateful. Thank you for protecting her.”

Protecting her?
Visions of Francie’s soft, creamy thighs throbbed in his brain. He still heard her sweet moans of pleasure.
Protecting her?
Heat rose to his face and he was thankful for the darkness. “You’re welcome,” he muttered.

“But it looks as though your days of service will soon be over,” Philip said, rubbing his chin.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve had ten would-be suitors approach me already.” He shook his head. “And one proposal.”

“Proposal?” Alexander repeated, visions of red hair and whispered sighs flashing through his mind. He sucked in a breath of air. It was too damn hot all of a sudden. Yanking his cravat loose, he stared at the earl. “What proposal?”

The older man seemed amused by Alexander’s reaction. “Absolutely entranced, the young man was.”

“Who?”

“Young Grosepeak.”

Alexander snorted. “He’s no match for Francie. She’d have him tied in knots and stumbling all over himself.”

“True,” Philip agreed. “He is a little green. Perhaps she needs someone more experienced. Hmmm,” he said, tapping his chin with his finger. “What do you think of Westhaven?”

“He’s a little too experienced,” Alexander said. He didn’t want to tell Philip the ton placed bets on Westhaven’s prowess. It was said he could bed any woman within a week. And the odds were always in his favor. No, Westhaven wouldn’t do.

“Kilander, then. I think he’s quite a handsome, polite young fellow. He and Francie would suit quite well.”

Alexander shook his head. “They might. But what would Francie think about the mistress and three children he keeps?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“There was another young man.
The one who came to see you for advice on the market last year. Penton, I believe. He seemed quite attentive to Francie.”

“I’m certain he was,” Alexander replied. “He’s also probably quite attentive to the fact that Francie is now a very wealthy woman.” He pulled out two cheroots, lit them, and offered one to Philip. “Penton was knee
-deep in debt when he came to me. His father cut him off and he thought I might give him a loan.”

“I see.” The earl took a long drag on his cheroot. “And did you?”

“Absolutely not. I told him to give up his mistress and his gambling and then we’d talk about a loan.”

“Scratch him.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Alexander replied, blowing a puff of smoke in the air.

“What about Rentworth?”

“Did his mother come with him tonight?” Alexander asked. “As long as Francie doesn’t mind her tagging along, wiping his nose and telling him what to do, it should work out fine.”

“What about you?”

Alexander bit down on his cheroot. He coughed, then choked, spitting out loose bits of tobacco.

“Alex? Are you all right?”

“No.” He spit again. “I am not all right.” He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“What did I do?”

Alexander pointed a finger at him. “Don’t try that innocent routine with me, Philip. I’ve known you for too many years.” He spit out more tobacco shreds. “Why, I’ll even wager you already knew what I just told you about Francie’s would-be suitors, and you wanted me to object to every one of them.”

Philip cleared his throat and looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” It all made sense now. Philip
wanted
him to see how unfit these men were. He wanted Alexander to be repulsed. And then he wanted him to play the mighty protector and rescue Francie from the clutches of the would-be villains. Very clever. The only question left was Francie’s part in this little plan. Was she aware of it? Is that why she’d allowed him such liberties with her sweet body? Was she trying to trap him into marriage?

“Alex?” The earl’s gruff voice interrupted his thoughts. “What are you talking about?”

“Just tell me one thing, Philip,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Does Francie know you’ve been scheming? Is she part of all this?”

“No!” He shook his head. “No,” he repeated on a softer note. “And I’m not scheming,” he added. “I was only trying to make you see the obvious.”

“Which is?” Alexander asked, trying to control the anger in his voice.

“You and Francie belong together.”

The words hit Alexander with the same force as the blows he’d delivered to Crayton earlier. He pushed back the image of Francie’s tinkling laughter and sweet smile. He fought the vision of her pale breasts, full and ripe in his hands.
No
, he told himself. They did not belong together. They could not belong together.

“You know my opinion of marriage, Philip,” he said, his words blunt and precise. “I’ve never pretended to want a wife.”

“You’re not your father.”

Alexander ignored him. “I am responsible for myself. Period. I enjoy my life. I have no title so there is no pressure to find a wife and produce an heir.”

The earl scoffed. “That is not the only reason to marry.”

“Oh?” Alexander lifted a brow. “Do tell, Philip. Why
do
people marry? I’ve often wondered.”

“For companionship. For stability.” Philip cleared his throat. “To produce extensions of themselves through children.” His voice lowered. “And for love.”

“That’s odd,” Alexander said, letting out a harsh laugh. “Love didn’t enter into most of the unions I’ve witnessed. Those couples married for quite different reasons.” He held out a hand and ticked off his fingers as he spoke. “Land, money, titles, heirs, security. Perhaps, love of those things, but certainly not of each other.”

“Why are you so jaded? Can’t you just for a minute consider the possibility of marriage?”

“No.”

“Why?” Philip’s words were filled with sadness and a hint of disappointment.

“I can’t.” Alexander shoved his hands in his pockets. Why did they have to have this conversation now? Why couldn’t Philip just accept his word and stop digging around, looking for answers that were only going to upset him? He sighed. Fine. If the old man wanted answers, he’d get them, but he wasn’t going to like what he heard. “I won’t take a wife because I don’t ever want to look in someone else’s eyes and see disillusionment or failure. And I won’t bring children into this world to be at the mercy of two individuals who may or may not show common decency toward one another or their children.”