Authors: Alexia Praks
Tags: #Historical Romance, #Regency Romance, #virgin heroine, #alpha male hero
That caught her attention then, and she didn’t seem to be able to move as she gazed into his eyes, their faces very close and her lips touching his.
Merrick was in a trance. He could feel her soft lips against his, and against his better judgment, he wanted to kiss them and even stroke his tongue against them.
He snapped back to reality and drew her away, his heart thumping loudly in his own ears.
Christine shyly touched her lips with her fingers, her eyes downcast. “I… I shall get your night outfit, my lord.” That said, she dashed off toward the wardrobe to do some searching while he undid his own cravat. A moment later, she said, “Is this the right one?” She came back and showed him the navy banyan.
When he nodded, she placed it on his bed and looked around to see what else she could do. Noticing the curtains were not yet closed properly, she walked toward the window and pulled them closer together.
“
So I won’t get a chill?” he asked, raising his brows.
“
Yes, ’tis winter, and I do not want you to get sick. I must take care of you properly.” She smiled, turned round, and froze. She stood there, staring at his big, muscular chest, his powerful arms, and his broad shoulders. His tanned skin was so smooth and hard that she wanted to touch it and see what it felt like.
He gazed at her, saw that ridiculous face, and raised his brows. He pulled his robe on and began to take his trousers off.
She sucked in her breath and hastily twisted toward the drapes. Merrick saw this and roared with laughter. She blushed with her back to him.
“
Still embarrassed, Chris?” he asked as he pulled his trousers off. She nodded. “Chris, you can turn round now, I’m decently covered.” He chuckled and folded his arms across his chest.
She turned and, true to his word, he was all covered up.
“
Now where was I? Ah, yes. I think I will buy you a whole new wardrobe. What do you think, Chris?” he asked, looking at her shabby breeches and coat.
Christine widened her eyes. “A whole new wardrobe? You mean I will have new clothing? Like breeches, shirts, and all that?” she said with delight. Then instantly her face fell. “But I don’t want it.”
“
Why not?” he asked.
“
There could be no happiness when my family does not have the same things as I do,” she said.
“
Ah, I see. You worry and care about your family more than yourself. That is why I like you. Don’t you worry, Chris. Your family will be getting new wardrobes, too.”
“
Oh, thank you,” she said, and because she was so happy, she impulsively ran and wrapped her arms around his middle.
Merrick looked down at her, felt the warmth and softness of her body, and wondered if in fact he was going quite mad because he was slowly getting aroused by their close contact. He caught her wrists and removed her arms from his waist. She looked up at him, her face flushed with happiness and her eyes shining brilliantly. His heart did a somersault, then continued with its drumming rhythm.
“
What’s wrong, my lord? You look ill—are you all right?” she asked in concern as she touched her hand to his warm cheek and started stroking him. “My lord, are you ill? Oh no, you are. Why, just look at you—you are warm all over like me when I get sick. You must have a fever. You need to lie down.”
She touched his forehead to check his temperature and found that it was in fact quite hot. “Come this way. You must lie down, and I’ll go get you something. Oh, I don’t know what, but… I’ll tell Mrs. Ross. She’ll know what to do.” She pulled him toward the bed, but he just stood there, not moving, and he was as rigid and hard as a rock.
Merrick gritted his teeth, the muscles about his strong jaw flexing. His hands clenched and unclenched. He controlled himself by taking deep, slow breaths, his huge chest rising and falling as he stood there looking down at her.
“
You may go now,” he said quietly.
“
Go where? Oh, to get Mrs. Ross? I’ll go right away,” she said and dashed toward the door. In a flash, he caught her wrist and yanked her back. She slammed against his chest.
She stared up at him, breathing heavily; her eyes fixed on his lips.
“
Chris, not to Mrs. Ross—go to your room,” he told her firmly. Mrs. Ross did not need to know about this little masquerade. Good God, the housekeeper would know for sure that the symptoms that he was having right this very instant were not those of sickness but of sexual arousal.
“
Err… my lord?” she asked, at a loss.
“
Go to your room. I want you to go to your room,” he said, his hand gripping tighter on her arm as he pulled her closer.
Her eyes widened. “But you are sick. I just can’t leave you here and not bother to do anything. I don’t want you to get ill. I have to get Mrs. Ross,” she protested stubbornly.
“
You will not,” he said, his grip squeezing her small arm. “I want you to go to your room.” Though he said that, his action implied exactly the opposite, clutching her as closely to him as a lover.
“
But you are ill. I must help you,” she said, staring up at him. “It’s my duty,” she added quietly.
He felt her body shake beneath his hands. He released her and took a shaky breath. “Now look here, Chris. Do I seem ill to you?” he asked.
“
Yes, you do. Just look at you—you’re hot all over as if you are having a fever,” she said.
“
No, I’m not sick, Chris,” he said more calmly this time.
“
Then why are you so warm?”
“
I’m warm because… I’ve been drinking very heavily—at the dinner party,” he lied, his eyes burning with self-disgust.
“
I’m sorry. I didn’t know. But of course, now that you’ve mentioned it, I also remember Mr. Brad sometimes drank at work, and he got really warm.” She managed to smile up at him.
“
Chris?”
“
Yes?”
“
Go now,” he commanded quietly.
“
Oh. Yes, my lord.” She dragged herself reluctantly toward the door. There, she turned back and looked at him. His face was as impassive as a mask, though it was all red and stiff. Actually, his whole body was red and stiff. She gave him another smile and left, shutting the door behind her.
Merrick stood there for a moment, trying to regain control of himself. Finally, when he was sure he was in control and the lust in his blood gone, he relaxed and climbed into the cold, empty bed.
* * *
He moved himself on top of her, his hand caressing her slender legs. He snuggled his head into the crook of her neck, and he smelled lavender. His hot mouth trailed along her nape with wet kisses. Lord, she made him feel complete.
He gazed into that beautiful face and stroked her silky hair. His head came down to her, and his lips touched hers. He plunged his tongue into her mouth. He stroked and played with her while his hand trailed down and cuddled her generous breasts. His passion heightened. His blood stirred hot with wanting her. He released her mouth and moved his head back to stare down at her. She was beautiful, and her lips were swollen red. Suddenly, her face turned fuzzy and started to fade away.
“
Angela?” he whispered in panic as her face disappeared completely. Then, as though in answer to his call, her face slowly reappeared. He peered closer at her and saw her gray eyes turn a violet color. The freckles on the bridge of her nose were light but prominent. His breathing became hard and laborious as he pushed himself up, staring down at the new woman below him. But it wasn’t the face of a woman that he looked at.
It was the face of a boy!
He pushed himself off the bed, found himself falling heavily, and landed on the floor with a thud.
Merrick snapped his eyes opened. The light was dim, though he knew that morning had arrived. He sat up and scanned the room. It was only a dream, he thought. It wasn’t real.
FIVE
The wind whistled past Merrick’s face as the stallion galloped across the patchy snow. It was as if master and beast were one—racing, gliding, and lashing dirty snow everywhere with their speed. His blood ran hot. He could feel the crisp, cold wind whipping at his face. He urged his stallion to go faster until at last they reached the thick woods where he slowed the horse to a walk. He twisted around and narrowed his eyes, looking across his vast estate. In the distance, he could just make out Huntingdon Hall.
He’d needed to get away to settle his thoughts and calm his nerves. In the woods was the best place of all. He came to a treacherous pathway that led him to his favorite place. He steered his stallion around a bush and came out into the clearing.
The lake that was usually clear and calm was now frozen solid. This was the place where he always came to seek solitude and gather his thoughts.
He descended from the saddle and took a stroll. He remembered when he used to come here to bathe during the summer years ago with his son Frederic. He climbed up onto a big rock and stood there, deep in thought. It was his favorite spot, hidden by thick bushes. It also had a perfect view of the lake. Although the scenery spread before him was quite beautiful, he couldn’t keep his thoughts of last night at bay.
What was wrong with him? He couldn’t understand what he had been feeling last night. What did it mean? God help him. How could a mere youth arouse him? Was he going mad? He couldn’t think of one explanation as to why he had responded in such a way to Chris’s innocent touch.
He stayed there for at least an hour. When he couldn’t reach any conclusion, he descended from the rock. He picked up a pebble and threw it onto the solid lake where it bounded and rebounded on the surface of the ice. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat and ambled toward his horse. “Time to go home,” he said, patting his stallion.
Birds chirped loudly in the air, and by instinct, Merrick twisted around. He saw birds flocking away from a tree.
Bang!
He felt something sharp strike his left arm. Twisting to look in the direction of the shot, he saw the swaying and rustling of bushes and snow falling off dead branches on the far side of the lake. He searched around him but saw no one.
The pain rushed in, sharp and hot, and he fell to the ground.
* * *
Christine stared with shining eyes at the new clothing Mrs. Ross had given her this morning. She had said that these were only temporarily until she got her wardrobe sorted out, as the earl had instructed.
The linen material of the shirt was so fine she was afraid to touch it. Smiling with glee, she took off her chemise and carefully put on the gray breeches. After wrapping the binding around her chest, she wore the new shirt on top of that and buttoned it vigilantly, smoothing away any wrinkles. She put on the black coat on top of that, and lastly, her new buckle shoes. After haphazardly tying the silk scarf about her neck, she brushed her neat, short hair into place.
Christine walked to the window and looked out. The morning sun was just rising. She knew it was time to go down and have her breakfast. But perhaps she should go in and say thank you to the earl first.
In Merrick’s bedroom, she saw his bed was a mess, but the earl was not there.
Where could he have gone to?
Feeling gloomy, she left the room and headed downstairs, where she met with Mrs. Ross.
“
Ah, Master Chris. Up already, I see,” the woman said.
“
Have you seen the earl, Mrs. Ross?” Christine asked.
“
Out, he is, Master Chris, riding his dark beast—perhaps to his favorite spot, the lake in the west woods. Would you like to have your breakfast now?”
“
No, Mrs. Ross, I’m not hungry yet,” she replied, and she inquired as to where the west woods were.
She’d always loved walking in the morning because the air was cool and fresh, and she learned the distance to the west woods was not at all that far. After all, she had been walking five miles from her home to the vase factory in Hamming every day for the past five years—this was nothing compared to that.
Reaching the woods, Christine narrowed her eyes against the harsh, bright daylight and scanned her surroundings. There was nothing except birds chattering and, occasionally, the whistling of the winter breeze.
Bang!