Nicole Jordan (4 page)

“But you have no desire to be leg-shackled,” she said in understanding as she took a step toward him. “Well, you can rest easy, my lord. I have no intention of wedding anyone, most certainly not a man of your rakish reputation.”

“I am hardly a rake.”

“If you were a gentleman”—she gave his lower body a pointed glance—“you would cover yourself.”

Realizing his manhood was fully erect now, Thorne reached for his shirt. “I confess that a beautiful woman staring at my loins has an arousing effect.”

The flush in her cheeks fascinated him. In truth,
she
fascinated him. From her bold appraisal, he had to conclude that she was no meek-mannered miss. Nothing like the chaste, featherheaded young innocents who often pursued him. If he hadn’t sent her scurrying away in fright by now, she had to have some measure of experience. An enticing thought, Thorne reflected.

Draping the shirt around his hips, he tied the sleeves together and rose to his feet. “Better?”

“Yes…I think so.”

“I
am
a gentleman, you know—although my father would sometimes dispute it. What of you?” His gaze slid down her body. “Most ladies would think twice before coming to a secluded cove where a strange man was sea-bathing in the nude.”

Her eyes kindled a little at that. “Of course I am a lady.”

“Yet you come here alone, and you don’t shy from the sight of me.”

“I wished to speak to you in private. And I must warn you, attempts to intimidate me usually have precisely the opposite effect. You won’t frighten me away.”

Thorne realized he was beginning to enjoy himself. Certainly he no longer wanted to drive her away. Instead he wondered if he could persuade her to stay. “In that case, you are welcome to join me. But you have on far too many clothes. You would be far more comfortable without your gown.”

Her eyes widened at his brazen suggestion.

“Wouldn’t you care to take a swim?” he pressed, moving toward her. “The water is a bit cool but invigorating.”

“I don’t know how to swim.”

“I would be delighted to teach you.”

With an unwilling smile, she shook her head sadly. “I should have known the tales I’ve heard about you are true. You are indeed a seasoned rake.”

“Oh, no,” he murmured, halting before her. “If I were truly a rake, I would take advantage of having a beautiful woman alone and try to steal a kiss from her.”

He’d often been accused of having a wicked sense of humor, so he wasn’t surprised that his brazenness didn’t appear to shock her. Yet suddenly she was no longer amused. She lifted her chin again, eyeing him coolly.

The directness in her gaze, in her stance, was challenge incarnate. And he could never resist a challenge. Especially not from a woman so alluring as this one.

Her lips were temptingly close and perfectly shaped, while all his senses avidly relayed the fact that she was lushly curved in all the right places. He wanted to draw her down into the sand with him and slowly strip her gown from her body, exploring those sweet curves with his hands and mouth….

A jolt of pure desire sizzled through Thorne at the prospect.

He took the final step toward her, so their bodies almost touched. It startled him, how badly he wanted her. He couldn’t remember ever being this aroused this swiftly.

Neither could Diana.

Gazing up at Thorne, she once again felt transfixed. His eyes were a stunning hazel—gold dappled with flecks of green—and deep enough to drown in.

She drew a shaky breath at his unsettling nearness. Any well-bred lady would doubtless have fled at the first sight of his nudity. But dismayingly, her strongest urge was to touch him, to see if his skin was as warm and supple as it looked. If the muscle and sinew rippling beneath the surface was as hard as she suspected. If his firm, beautiful mouth would taste as arousing as she imagined it would.

He seemed to understand her dilemma, for a beguiling hint of wickedness glimmered in those gold-green eyes as he studied her in turn. Her heart skipped a beat at the seductive sensuality she saw there.

He was near enough for her to feel his warmth. The fine cambric covering his loins was better than nothing but still was almost sheer, leaving her all too aware of his masculine attributes. She was even more disturbed by the way her body flared in response. She couldn’t help feeling the power that had beguiled so many women into his arms.

Then he flashed her a slow, devastating smile that took her breath away.

Merciful heavens, he was dangerous, Diana thought, feeling slightly dazed.

That smile could prove deadly, she had no doubt, for it melted away any thought of resistance…as he likely intended.

When he lowered his head toward hers, she realized with a sense of shock that he intended to kiss her. His boldness caught her off guard, but she could not have moved if her life had depended on it. Instead she watched spellbound as he bent the final distance.

His breath fanned warm against her lips…then his mouth covered hers. At the first touch, sensation arced between them, making her pulse leap.

He kissed her as if he were sampling some exotic fruit for the first time, savoring her flavor. When unconsciously Diana parted her lips, his tongue slid inside her mouth in a sensual invasion. Another frisson of fiery sensation sparked between them as he tasted her.

His kiss was incredibly arousing, his mouth settling on hers in a more determined caress, creating an irresistible friction. When she gave a little whimper of surprise, his hand rose to cradle her jaw, his long, lean fingers holding her still for his seductive assault.

She had been kissed before—several times—by the man she had once intended to marry. Yet her former betrothed’s kisses had been sweet, worshipful, as if she were made of spun glass and fragile enough to break.

This man, on the contrary, treated her like a fleshand-blood woman. A woman he
wanted.

Thorne angled his head and deepened his kiss, his mouth suddenly turning more demanding. Diana shivered as his tongue plunged between her lips, hot and silky. Of their own accord, her hands rose to clutch his shoulders. Beneath his golden, sun-warmed skin, she could feel the hardness of his corded muscles.

At the same time his own hands moved to her hips to pull her closer, flush against him…making her keenly aware of his huge phallus swelling against her stomach.

She had wondered about that hard ridge of male flesh, and now she knew. At the erotic pressure, she could feel a shameful tingling in her breasts, feel a brazen heat uncoiling between her thighs. The wanton intensity of her body’s reaction startled her; the desire he stirred in her was impossible to deny.

Then his hand left her jaw and slid slowly along the column of her throat to cup her breast, and her shock deepened. Her betrothed had never touched her this way…exciting her, arousing her….

When instinctively she arched against the alluring pressure, Thorne made a satisfied male sound low in his throat. A moment later his fingers curled over the square neckline of her gown, dipping beneath the fabric of her shift to explore the swell of her breast, finding the taut nipple.

Fire shot through her, making her knees weak.

His knuckles teased the furled bud, startling a raw moan from Diana, yet penetrating her dazed mind at the same time. She had wanted to test the boundaries of her newfound liberation, but this was beyond brazen. Their embrace had turned too passionate….

With a gasp, she pushed at his bare chest and broke away.

Her breasts rose and fell rapidly as she stared at him.

For a long moment, Thorne stared back. His eyes had darkened to forest green fractured with chips of gold, while his expression had become shuttered, as if he didn’t trust her or the searing flame that had momentarily kindled between them.

His voice was slightly hoarse when he finally spoke. “I was right. Your lips are every bit as inviting as they look.”

No apology, no contrition at all, for his outrageous behavior, Diana realized.

Unsettled, she pressed a hand to her stomach to calm the excited flutter there and retreated a few steps, to a safer distance. It was impossible to recover her dazed senses or to quell her erratic heartbeat, but she made an effort to pretend nonchalance.

“I suppose you simply cannot help yourself, Lord Thorne. Rumor has it that you try to seduce every woman you meet.”

“Only the ones who interest me.” He smiled—charmingly—which only set her pulse racing harder. “I admit you interest me, sweetheart. And I expect I was driven by the island’s enchantment, as well.”

“Enchantment?”

“You haven’t heard the legend of our island? The sun god Apollo fell in love with the nymph Cyrene, but when she spurned him, he created an island paradise here and held her captive until she came to love him in return. The spell he cast is said to uncontrollably arouse the senses of mere mortals and drive them to passion.”

Diana returned a skeptical look. It was certainly true that the island’s beauty stirred her blood, but she couldn’t quite credit the tale of a mythical spell.

Her gaze pinned Thorne, while her mouth curved with sardonic amusement. “It sounds more as if you are exploiting a myth as a convenient excuse for your dissolute behavior.”

“Perhaps so,” Thorne allowed, flashing her that provocative, heart-melting grin. “We have never met before, have we, love? You must be new to Cyrene, for I know all the beauties here, and I could never have forgotten you.”

“No, we have never actually met,” Diana replied.

When Viscount Thorne had come to visit Nathaniel shortly after her disastrous aborted elopement, she was purposely kept out of sight because her uncle deemed Thorne a dangerous rake, and she was considered susceptible to rakes.

She hadn’t attended Nathaniel’s funeral last year either, since it had been held in London, several days’ journey from the Lunsford country estate where she lived. And by the time she received word of her cousin’s untimely death, Nathaniel had already been buried. At least Amy had been able to attend her brother’s service, for the girl was in London at the time, preparing for her comeout.

Diana suspected, however, that Thorne would at least recognize her name, for she’d written to him on several occasions during the past year—although his solicitors had always handled his return correspondence with her.

“I am Nathaniel’s cousin, Diana Sheridan.”

At her revelation, he gave her a measuring stare. “You might have said so from the first,” he said finally.

Detecting a hint of ruefulness in his tone, Diana couldn’t repress a smile. “Why? Would it have prevented you from assaulting me?”

“Very likely. In all honor, I never would have touched you.” Turning casually, Thorne bent to pick up the linen towel and draped it over his shoulder, so that it covered much of his bare body in the style of a toga. “My friends’ sisters and cousins are off-limits, even to rakes like me.”

“I am gratified to know you have
some
scruples,” Diana observed dryly.

“A very few.” His expression sobering, he regarded her with his penetrating gaze. “Why are you here on Cyrene?”

“Your solicitors in England informed me you could be found here. It wasn’t easy persuading them to divulge your location, but I made them see the necessity, since you are Amy’s legal guardian.”

“And you came all this way just to speak to me?”

“I would not have been forced to such lengths had you been in London as expected. Your sudden disappearance…complicated matters. But then I decided to use it to Amy’s benefit. Nathaniel seemed convinced you would help her if she was ever in trouble. And she is in trouble now.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“It’s commonly known that she is a substantial heiress. And recently a certain fortune-hunter has been courting her so earnestly, she believes herself in love. I brought her to Cyrene, primarily to escape his pursuit, in the hopes that the respite will give her a chance to get over her infatuation. I am also hoping that you can persuade her to wait until she has her Season before bestowing her affections again. Perhaps with the delay, Amy will settle on a more respectable suitor. I have had…difficulty, however, making her see reason.”

“And you think I can?”

“She is very fond of you, at least. She might listen to you. In any event, I needed to discuss the particulars of her comeout with you.”

Diana paused to let Thorne digest her disclosures. As Amy’s guardian, he had done his legal duty by the girl, although mainly he’d allowed his solicitors to deal with Amy’s fortune. Yet it was time now for him to take a serious interest in his ward’s future.

For the past year while Amy mourned her brother, convention required that she postpone all social functions, including her formal presentation. But she was nineteen now, past the age when young ladies usually made their bow to society.

“Her comeout?” Thorne repeated warily.

Diana nodded. “I think it would benefit her greatly if you could convince your Aunt Hennessy to sponsor Amy’s Season this spring.” Thorne’s aunt, Lady Hennessy, was a leader of English society and, as such, stood the greatest chance of giving Amy a successful debut.

Grimacing, Thorne ran a hand roughly through his tawny wet mane. “The thought of being responsible for a girl’s comeout makes me shudder. To be perfectly blunt, I never wanted the office of guardian in the first place. In fact, I’m not the best choice Nathaniel could have made.”

“I fully agree,” Diana said lightly, “but he trusted you to care for his sister. And your aunt could prove a major advantage to Amy’s presentation to society.”

“I suppose so,” Thorne agreed with reluctance.

“There is one other significant reason I wanted to see you,” Diana added. “To deliver a letter Nathaniel left for you.”

Reaching inside her muslin sleeve, she withdrew a tightly folded sheet of vellum and handed it to Thorne. “Apparently he wrote this shortly before his death, in the event something dire should befall him.”

Thorne stood staring down at the letter, at his name, which had been written in a bold scrawl, and Diana caught the anguish in his gaze. He still grieved for his friend, she had no doubt.