The Harlow Hoyden (33 page)

The duke knew that
everything she was experiencing was new for her, and he tried to keep a tight rein on his passion in order to let her explore freely. But the provocation she offered was too much, and after a few long moments of her fingers caressing his manhood he could stand it no more. He pulled her toward him and brought his head down to hers with force, capturing her lips in a rapturous kiss. The thin cotton
that separated her skin from his was unbearable to him and he undid the three buttons in the back with deft hands. Since the fabric was wet, it would not slide it easily over Emma’s head, and Trent chose the only recourse that would remove the unwanted barrier quickly and efficient. He tore it in half. The offending garment joined the robe on the floor.

It was the first time the duke had seen
Emma’s body in the light, and he let out a haggard sigh at the breathtaking sight of her creamy white, beautiful breasts. With the lightest touch, he ran his hands over them, thanking God that this precious, wonderful woman was his tonight and always. He heard her laugh softly. He raised his head. “Do I amuse you, Emma?” he asked, his tone light and teasing.

“That was a borrowed gown, Alex. I
am loath to imagine what the landlord will think when he sees it,” she explained, wishing he hadn’t distracted her with his wicked touch. She had never before seen a man naked—let along a naked man aroused—and she was very curious about every part of him. His manhood had been so smooth.

“Then the landlord will never see it.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and laid a soft kiss on her
forehead. “I will tell him my darling wife could not bear to part with it and reimburse him for the cost.”

Emma smiled, though these sweet words also saddened her. There were things other than the nightgown that she could not bear to part with. But she would not think of that now. Tonight was for her, for him, for them, for the chance to experience something perfect and wild that would never
happen again. She kissed him gently on the lips and felt him respond ardently.

“I cannot do what I want in this tub,” Trent said between long, luxurious kisses.

“All right,” she said, her voice a soft whisper and she climbed out. Feeling his eyes on her bare back, she suddenly felt awkward in her nakedness and grabbed a towel that was folded on a chair. She held it up. “Come, I will dry you
off.”

Trent stood in the tub, pausing a moment to let the water run off his body before stepping on to the wooden floor. He waited expectantly for Emma to dry him off, but after a minute she still had not moved. “The towel, my dear?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, pulling herself out of a trancelike state. The sight of his body—those powerful thighs, those glistening shoulders, that muscled stomach—had
stolen her thoughts, and she could do nothing more than stare like a schoolgirl. She had not known that his clothes had hidden
such
treasures. She applied the towel vigorously to his shoulder, then his torso, buttocks and legs. “You are beautiful, Alex.”

He took the towel from her grip, threw it onto the floor and lifted her into his arms. Then he carried her to the bed and gently laid her down
on cool sheets. “I am not the beautiful one here,” he said, perusing her body with his eyes.

Emma felt exposed and fought the instinct to cover up. For one night only she would be the brazen hussy the whole world already thought her to be. When the duke suckled her breasts, she arched her back, bringing her body even closer to his, and when he laid intimate kisses along her thighs, she opened
her legs to allow him better access.

The duke carefully raised a finger to the most intimate part of her, and he heard Emma gasp in shock and pleasure. Delighted with her response, he ran a finger along the moist folds, until he found her sensitive nub. He rubbed it gently.

“Alex,” she said, almost panting with the need that seemed to grow within her every second. “Alex.”

“Shh, my love, it’s
all right,” he assured her, increasing the pressure.

Emma closed her eyes and focused on the pleasurable feelings. She knew she could trust Trent, and she moaned his name once again as she was overcome by wave after wave of sensation. For fleeting seconds she lost control of all her muscles. It was truly wonderful.

She felt Trent’s lips on her neck, but she refused to open her eyes. “That was
very good, your grace,” she said, unable not to tease him. “You have most skilled fingers.”

“There’s more, Emma.” He kissed her ear and felt her tremble in response. “I will be gentle.”

“Yes, I know you will,” she answered, her eyes still closed.

The duke had never lain with any woman as innocent as Emma, and he was fearful of not being gentle enough. He positioned himself at the entrance
of her womanhood and carefully slid inside. His movements were slow and deliberate and when he had pushed himself all the way in, he rested his weight on his elbows and looked at Emma.

“Open your eyes,” he said, trailing hot kisses down her cheek. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Emma complied.

“Do you feel any pain?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer. He knew this initiation could not
happen otherwise, but still he was loathe to hurt this precious creature in any way.

“A small amount, Alex, but nothing worse than usual,” she answered honestly. “One does not get to be the Harlow Hoyden without a few scrapes and bruises.”

He laughed softly and began to move within her, slowly at first. He tried to keep his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her with his body, but Emma
had other ideas. She threw her arms around him and pulled him close.

“I want to feel your body against mine, your grace,” she whispered in his ear. “You feel so wonderful.”

“God, you feel wonderful, too.”

The duke increased his pace, keeping his eyes on Emma’s face so that he could gage her every reaction. He had spoken the truth when he said she felt wonderful. Indeed, no woman had ever felt
so good in his entire life, but he held on to his control. The experience must be perfect for Emma. Not just because she was to be his wife or because it was her first time but because he loved her and she must get as much pleasure out of his body as he did of hers. His pride would accept nothing less.

He could tell from her heavy breathing that she was getting close, and when he felt her body
tense in his arms, he let himself go, driving harder and harder into her soft body. His climax came fast, drenching him in a sea of sensation. It was overwhelming and all-consuming, and it wiped out everything that had come before it. There was and had always been only Emma. And from that moment on she would be all that he knew.

The fire crackled as Emma watched the duke pour brandy into a snifter.
“That’s enough,” she said, when he had filled the glass halfway. “I’m already intoxicated by you and do not need the nectar of brandy to help me along.”

“Intoxicated by me?” he said, handing her the glass. She was sitting by the fire in a large armchair, her hair, still partially wet, flowing freely down her back. Since self-consciousness had gotten the best of her, Emma wore a sheet draped around
her body. The duke thought she made a charming Roman and had said so as soon as she had donned the improvised garment. He himself felt no need to cover up his nakedness. He was in the garden of Eden and had no desire for clothes—at least at the moment. “I did not expect romantic drivel to drop from Miss Harlow’s lips.”

She laughed. “I imagine lots of things have happened tonight that you did
not expect.”

Taking the seat across from her, he admitted the truth of the statement. Indeed, he still found it hard to believe what had transpired in that room. “Point well taken, my love. Although my ire at your rash behavior was such that I did envision some physical contact between us, it was certainly not of a sensual nature.”

His voice was low and husky, and Emma felt tingles run up her
spine. She had just made love with the man not an hour before and already she wanted him again. It was a sorry state of affairs and one that she would examine in more depth on the morrow. Until then, she would enjoy everything that happened. “I object to your characterization of my behavior as rash. The fate of England hung in the balance, and I acted as any patriot would. What would you’ve had
me do?”

“Seek help,” he answered.

“I did, your grace,” she reminded him, “but as you were away from home, I had to make do with Philip. I have not asked if everything is all right. Surely only a very important emergency could have taken you from London in the middle of the season and without a word to Vinnie. You and she have become great friends in the past weeks, haven’t you?”

He did not
relish the introduction of her sister into the conversation, for mentions of Vinnie were usually followed by exhortations to kiss her. He answered honestly but with caution. “I consider her a great
friend
, yes.”

But for once Emma’s mind was clear of schemes. “Tell me how things are with you. Your estates are in good order?”

“The emergency turned out to be a tempest in a teapot,” he said. When
he had gone scurrying off to Kemsley, he’d been convinced that it was over between them. Now she was wrapped in a sheet drinking brandy in a hotel room with him. Life—and Emma—were unpredictable.

“Excellent,” she said, taking a sip of brandy. It was smooth and made her throat tingle.

“You have still not told me of your adventure. How did you discover that Sir Windbourne is a spy?”

“He is a
very stupid spy who doesn’t check a room thoroughly to make sure no one is there,” she said, before going into details of what had occurred during the last two days. “And how did you track me so quickly? As of yesterday afternoon, you were still out of town.”

Not wanting to explain about Vinnie’s note, he said, “Since the emergency had proved to be only a small matter, I resolved to return to
town as quickly as possible. There was a note from Vinnie waiting for me. She was concern about your disappearance. The next time you dash off to chase after a villain, you must send word to her. She was most overwrought in her concern for your welfare. We would have been quite in the dark had Mr. Squibbs not kept his word to me.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Squibbs. I was meaning to ask you, your grace, what
right you have to keep tabs on me through my associates?” She found it hard to look suitably outraged in a makeshift toga.

“I have a vested interest in keeping that beautiful body of yours safe, especially now that I know it can bring me such bliss,” he answered, his eyes steady as they gazed at hers. He saw a gentle blush move up her cheeks and marveled at his reaction. He wanted her again.
“And a good thing I did, too. If Squibbs hadn’t paid me a visit, I wouldn’t have learned what had transpired.”

“I can’t believe Mr. Squibbs went to you after I’d assured him I’d be seeking you out myself.”

“Don’t be angry. He was only keeping his word to me,” the duke said, sipping his brandy. “And thank God. Who knows what would have happened if he had not told us your direction.”

“Very likely
I would have returned to London with a captured Sir Windbag in tow and we would have missed out on a delightful hostage episode,” she said mercilessly. “Yes, it was a very good thing you found me when you did.”

“Although I regret my hasty actions, I do not think the situation would have resolved itself quite so easily as you say. Sir Waldo wouldn’t have gone tamely with you, and Philip could
have been seriously injured in the process. If I recall correctly, Windbourne’s gun was aimed at him.”

Remembering Philip, Emma was instantly remorseful. “How is the dear boy? I take full responsibility for his misadventure. I should have known better than to bring a green boy on a such a dangerous enterprise. ’Twas only that he had spoken so passionately about being of help to me, and you were
gone.”

“Since I did not linger long after you, I didn’t get a clear look at his wound, but it seemed to be minor. He’ll need a cane for a few months and all the young misses will swoon at the romantic figure he’ll cut, but then he will be back to normal in no time—and back to Yorkshire, I hope. I find him a tiresome boy.”

“Never say so, Trent!” she protested. “He admires you so much and you’ll
just have to learn to be more patient. And perhaps take a dive every so often at Gentleman Jackson’s. All the young gallants think it’s rude for you to be so invulnerable.”

The duke laughed. “They would not thank me for going easy on them as a favor to a female.”

Emma acknowledged the truth of this statement and changed the topic. “Now you must tell me how you found me in that awful little house.
You were not behind us, for I kept my eyes peeled to the road in hope—and in fear—of catching sight of you.”

“I only took one horse and stayed off the main road. It was not hard to navigate the forest by the side of the road and when we came to a clearing I held back. I would like to say you were in my sights the entire time, but you were not. Still, I always had a fair sense of your direction,
except when you turned off the main road that second time,” he added. “I had to do a fair amount of backtracking to find you then.”

“Have I thanked you yet for your perfect timing? A few more seconds and it would have been too late,” she said softly, remembering the feel of that horrible, unforgiving handle pressed against her neck and shuddering, despite the warmth of the fire.