Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1) (23 page)

“I had help. I hope you’re hungry. I can’t recall if we’ve
ever discussed the merit of picnics, but I suspect that they are as popular in
England as America.”

“I adore picnics.” Not that Astra could remember the last
time she had been on one.

James smiled down at her and he no doubt heard the choke
of emotion in her answer. As they neared the shaded turn that led to the
gazebo, she increased the pressure on the arm and drew him closer.

The white of the gazebo peeked through overhanging vines,
still shrouded by a tangled jungle of thorny bushes. If anything, the fine weather
had left the once pristine gazebo appearing more ramshackle than ever.

“If you have brought food in there, I doubt there will be
any left. But, I’m sure Eastlan’s rodents are well pleased.”

James laughed, stepped on a vine and lifted the curtain of
green for her to enter. “Let’s find out. You first.”

Instead of shadows, something glowed from the inside as if
a shaft of sunlight had pierced the canopy overhead. She spared one more glance
for his overly smug grin and crawled inside.

The soft glow of over a dozen candles lit the green-tinged
space. A thick blanket was spread across the clean-swept marble floor topped
with cushions and a large tray containing wine glasses and an open bottle. The
pond shimmered green as sunlight conspired to compete with the illuminated
gazebo. Astra had never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

“You did all this?” Astra turned back to James not
bothering to hide the tears that coated her eyes or the emotion that flooded
her voice. “Today?”

“We started at dawn.” He remained leaning against a column
near the entrance, arms folded in front of him. “Mr. Rudd helped me.”

“Why?” She had to ask, though the answer was obvious.

He pushed off the column and walked toward her. “To see
that look of pure wonder on your face.”

“No one has ever gone to so much trouble to please me.” He
gathered her in his arms and more than ever, she wanted to tell him that she
loved him. In that moment, she didn’t care if he loved her back or not. “Thank
you. I love it.”

“Then smile.” He wiped the tears from below her eyes with
his thumb. “Since I have sisters, I am going to assume those are tears of joy.”

A bubble of laughter swept away her unwanted melancholy.
“I think this might be one of the best moments of my life.”

He kissed her gently on the lips, almost chastely, then
abruptly pulled away. “Then let’s have some wine to celebrate.”

He sat on the blanket and poured a light colored wine, not
the burgundy that she knew he preferred and held a glass out to her. She lowered
herself, maneuvering her skirt to prop herself on a cushion and took the glass.
She sipped the slightly chilled amber colored madeira and sighed. “Perfect.”

He reached in a basket and brought out a cloth covered
plate of assorted cheese and apples, another of cold beef thinly sliced. The
finale was a loaf of fresh baked bread, its aroma wafting through the gazebo.

“How did you explain this feast to the cook?”

“I didn’t. In case you haven’t noticed, I am a hardy eater
and Cook’s most ardent admirer. Apparently there has not been a Lord Keane with
my appetite in some years. She whips up a mid-day meal for me on a regular
basis. Securing her position, I suspect.”

“Thank you for sharing your feast.” Astra stared out at
the pond and listened to the call of birds overhead.

James shrugged out of his coat, then loosened his neck
cloth. “Mr. Rudd is guarding the perimeter so feel free to make yourself
comfortable.”

Astra paused in nibbling her cheese. “What did you tell
him?”

“He’s a military man, Astra. He doesn’t ask questions.” He
crawled over to her. “You don’t look comfortable.” Astra pulled off her hat and
allowed James to remove her shoes. He winked. “I’d like for you to remove
everything, but I have promised myself I will behave.”

“Oh, and I thought this was going to be a perfect afternoon.”
Astra giggled, a strange sound even to her ears. The wine was already making
her light-headed.

“If I have any say in it, and I do,” James winked, “this
will be the perfect afternoon.” He stretched out beside her. “You are queen of
all you survey and I am your humble servant.”

“Then perhaps
you
should take off your clothes.” She
leered at him and her body hummed in response. Oh she would love to see him
naked, attending to her every whim in broad daylight. Less than a month ago,
such thoughts would not have entered her head, much less seem eminently
plausible.

“Any ill effects from last night?” He gathered her foot in
his hand and rubbed her instep with his thumb. His hand drifted up her skirt
and he massaged her calf through her stocking.

“I’m feeling rather fit today.” She leaned back on her
elbows and enjoyed his attentions. He ignored her request that he disrobe and
she wondered if she should repeat it. All of a sudden he had become entirely
too serious.

“After you left last night, I thought about our
conversation.” He didn’t meet her gaze but focused on rubbing her feet and
calves. “I don’t like being the cause of your distress.”

“I should not have said anything. It’s not my place.”

He glanced up at her. “I should not have put you in that
place. Not exactly noble, am I?”

Astra tensed even though his actions today were not that
of a man intent on breaking things off.

“I plan to make it clear to Bainbridge that I’m not in the
market for a wife before we discuss any further business dealings.” His hands
stilled, but he held her as if he had no intention of letting go.

“You can’t do that.” Obviously, she had been lax in the
other part of their agreement. Securing Eastlan’s future at all costs. She
tried to sit up, but he would not release her leg.

“It’s the truth and something I’m sure he will appreciate
hearing.”

She gripped his hand. “Thank you, but I think it’s unwise.
Mr. Bainbridge knows it will take some courting to persuade you to marry one of
his daughters. It’s too soon for either of you to show your hand.” Besides, now
that she had faced the inevitable, as horrible as it was, at least it brought
her back to reality. She glanced at the candles, the canopy of vines above her
head, and realized how easy it would be to forget that again. “As long as I
don’t suddenly read of your engagement in the Times, you must proceed as you
are. Such a declaration to Mr. Bainbridge would not serve you or us. Mr.
Bainbridge is a sharp man and might consider there is someone else in your life
if you become so adamant in your refusal to even consider another.”

“Are you always so sensible?” he asked, studying her with
a cocked head.

“I am afraid so.”

“I hope to change that.” James reached for the bottle of
wine. “At least for the rest of the afternoon. Today you will think of nothing
but your own enjoyment.”

“I always do when I’m with you.” He refilled her glass
almost to the rim and she had to take a large slurp to keep from spilling it on
her dress.

“Good.” He stood. “Then you won’t argue with me when I
insist that you take off your dress.” Without waiting for her response, he
began to unbutton his waistcoat. He tossed the garment aside, removed the neck
cloth, then pulled his shirt from the waistline of his breeches.

“What happened to your promise to behave?” She watched him
with an expectant grin.

“Is that what you really want?” His heated blue gaze told
her they both knew better. “Will you take off your dress, my queen? I want to
worship at your feet.” He held out his hand.

She let him pull her to standing. “I have other places in
mind for you to worship.”

He came up behind her and worked at her laces. “I plan to
get to those as well.”

Together, they efficiently removed her clothes and to her
surprise, James produced a hanger to save her gown from wrinkles.

“You planned well.” She stood in nothing but her chemise,
while he remained almost fully dressed.

He hung the gown on a vine. It sagged a bit but supported
the weight. “I don’t like seeing you unhappy and more so being the cause.”

“It was not your fault. I’m sure the Bainbridges will not
be the only ones who wish to ply you with their daughters. You will be
bombarded at our ball next week, I promise you.”

“And when they do, know that I will only be thinking of
you.” James closed the distance between them, guided her into his arms and
pressed his lips against hers. Not like the chaste kiss when they’d entered the
gazebo but a hard possessive kiss. He gripped her bottom through the chemise
and pulled her against his erection. She leaned into him, entwined her tongue
with his, already yearning for the joining of their bodies.

With obvious great effort, he broke the kiss. “I wasn’t
going to do that. It’s dangerous.” He reached for a string on the chemise’s
neckline and loosened it.

She slapped his hands away. “I think it’s your turn to
disrobe, sir.”

“Afraid not, sweet. This is your party.” He grabbed the
edge of her chemise and whisked it off her head, her resistance hardly impeding
the process.

She gasped in exaggerated outrage and clasped her hands
over her chest. Of course, he’d seen her undressed before, but it seemed
strange in the out of doors while he remained fully dressed. She shivered as
the air caressed her bare skin, but instead of becoming chilled, warmth pooled
in her belly and her sex grew wet.

He grabbed her wrists and pried open her arms. “Come lay
on the blanket and I’ll cover you.” He guided her to the pallet he’d made. A
folded throw lay atop the blankets and she reached down to grab the lavender
wool and wrap it around herself.

“What’s that?” he said.

She turned to see him frowning. “What?”

His serious gaze met hers. “You have a scrape on your
back. It’s from the railing.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t trouble me.”

“Stay still.” He knelt down behind her and gingerly
touched her scraped skin. His lips followed and his touching concern became
instantly erotic. He rested his hands on her hips, then lowered his grip to lightly
trace the contours of her bottom. She trembled, feeling entirely too exposed on
her hands and knees with him behind her.

“Perhaps you’d be more relaxed lying down?” He said
between kisses that were dipping lower than the scrape on her back.

“I’d be more relaxed if you removed your clothes as well.”
She slipped from beneath him, gripping a blanket to cover herself.

“I can’t do that. I’m not to be trusted,” his tone was
half teasing, but there was determination behind his words. He easily pulled
the cover away from her.

“It’s just a scrape.”

Still on his knees, he guided her by the wrist to lie on
her back. Deciding she would feel less exposed lying down and much more
comfortable, she stretched out on the soft blankets.

“Do you always make it so difficult for someone to lavish
you with their attention?” James loomed above her, studying her with sensual
appreciation and something else. He looked at her as if she were a puzzle he
was trying to decipher.

His question struck Astra with the realization that no one
had ever tried to lavish her with attention or anything else for that matter.
She gave in to his urging, reclining her head on the pillows he’d wedged under
her head and shoulders, naked to the world. “By all means, do your best…or is
it worst?”

“Somewhere in-between.” His grin gave her cause to pause
at the same time it tightened her damp sex. As if sensing her body’s stirring,
he urged her to lift her hips so he could slide another pillow beneath her. “To
cushion your scraped back,” he said, heaviness in his eyelids suggesting the
support had a more intriguing purpose.

With her hips slightly tilted, her shoulders and head padded,
he knelt at her feet. Again, he massaged her instep and up her ankles. He still
wore his loose white shirt and his breeches. And his boots she suddenly
realized.

Most of his hair remained pulled back in a ribbon, but
hunks had come loose and hung in his eyes, and down his neck. His blue eyes
looked darker than usual but with an intense glow. In the soft light she could
see the darker ring around his glowing iris. He was masculine beauty at its
best.

“Comfortable?” he said with entirely too much cockiness.

Astra’s breathing quickened. Her chest rose and fell,
acutely reminding her of the whiteness of her breasts and the fiercely erect
state of her reddened nipples. The way he held her ankles, a little loosely,
warned her that he could clearly identify the moisture on her thighs. Her dark
blond curls no doubt accentuated what it should have concealed. Even now she
pulsed at the thought of James’s hot stare.

He spread her ankles further, then set her feet on the
ground, leaving her knees slightly bent. He used the space he created to crawl
over her. His white shirt fell loosely and brushed her belly. She could not
help but catch her breath, every new sensation overwhelming.

He sat back on his heels. “On second thought, I think I’ll
remove this. No need to forgo the pleasure of my skin against yours.” He tugged
at his shirt but his gaze had dropped heatedly to what was revealed by Astra’s
spread legs. She arched her back in an exaggerated readjustment of her
position, and let her eyes drift shut, but not enough that she could not see
him beneath her lashes. After all, she was queen for a day, was she not?

Bare-chested, his muscles bunched and a tendon in his jaw
visibly tightened. His eyes remained transfixed on Astra, unmoving as if under
a spell. Slowly, he dragged his gaze to Astra’s satisfied smirk.

“Why forgo anything, my lord?” she purred.

“Indeed, why?” he said in a horribly mangled imitation of
her proper British accent. He crawled over her until his face hovered above
hers. “Ah yes, I remember. To savor and suck the ripe fruit between your thighs
is the objective of the day.” His shocking statement won their duel of false
bravado. Astra’s eyes widened, and James smirked.