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Authors: Jennifer McNare

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BOOK: You, and Only You
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Looking down, she saw that her jacket and velvet riding
skirt were a soggy mess as well.
 
Standing there, the sodden, heavy material clung to her legs as water
dripped from the hem of the skirt onto her boots, as well as the wooden
floor.
 
Even her petticoats were damp,
causing her to shiver as the wet fabric brushed against her skin.
 
Grimacing, she could only imagine what her
father’s reaction would be when he saw her.
 
Oh well, she mused glumly, there was little she could do about that
now.
 
At least she was out of the rain.
 
Determinedly, she tried to focus on that one
positive note as she glanced around the small room.

Curious, she and Ashleigh had stopped to investigate the
tiny cottage on a previous outing and had discovered that, although small, it
contained all of the necessary features needed to house at least one person in
reasonable comfort.
 
Now, looking around,
Tiffany saw that everything appeared to be just as it had been before.
 
A small wooden table and two sturdy-looking
wooden chairs were set against the wall to her left.
 
Directly ahead was a large overstuffed chair
with a matching footstool and a small leather sofa, all of which were situated
in front of a stone fireplace built into the rear wall.
 
And lastly, a narrow bed and a small bedside
table were placed against the wall to her right.
 
As her eyes drifted back to the fireplace,
she was relieved to see a pile of wood stacked neatly to one side.
 
Pushing away from the door, she wondered how
long it had been since anyone had lived there.
 
Considering the layer of dust that covered just about everything in the
sparsely furnished room, it had probably been a while.
 
However, she could hardly complain, for a
little dust was certainly preferable to the storm that was presently raging
outside.

Moving to the table and chairs, Tiffany pulled off her wet
riding gloves, tossed them onto the square tabletop and then began to undo the
numerous buttons that ran down the front of her jacket.
 
With her luck, she would likely become ill if
she remained encased in her sodden garments for much longer.
 
Unfortunately though, her fingers were numbed
from the cold and it took her several minutes before she managed to free the
last button.
 
Finally, once she was able
to peel off the wet material, she then draped the jacket across the back of one
of the chairs in the hope that it might dry more quickly.
 
Hesitating for only a moment, she then
removed her thin silk shirt, with its once elaborate froth of lace at the
neck.
 
There was no one to see her, she
reasoned, and she felt warmer already, now that the icy cloth was no longer
clinging to her damp skin.
 
Spreading it
out atop the other wooden chair, she then reached for her sopping wet skirt and
quickly stepped free of the heavy fabric.
 
Moving across the small room, she placed it atop the chair that sat
before the fireplace.

Clad only in her thin chemise, damp petticoats, silk stockings
and tall riding boots, she moved briskly toward the small woodpile stacked next
to the hearth.
 
Once she had a fire going
she would move the other chairs closer to the fireplace so that the heat could
reach her discarded garments.
 
Grasping
an armful of wood, she tossed several medium-sized logs onto the metal grate
that sat within the brick hearth and surrounded them with smaller bits of
kindling.
 
Though she had never lit a
fire before, she’d seen the maids and footmen do it numerous times, and thus
she was fairly confident that she could manage the undertaking herself.
 
Locating the tinderbox, she promptly set
about igniting the wooden logs.
 
Surprisingly, it proved to be a far more difficult task than she had
imagined.
 
But gritting her teeth she
refused to give up, and after several minutes of trying she finally managed to
spark a small blaze.
 
Clapping her hands
in excitement, she blew gently upon the tiny fire and then watched in gleeful
satisfaction as the flames slowly grew higher and higher.
 

Once she’d warmed her hands and assured herself that the
fire would remain lit, she then dragged the two chairs across the floor and
placed them on either side of the fireplace.
 
With that accomplished, she looked toward the bed and was delighted to see
that a colorful quilt lay folded at the foot of the mattress.
 
Despite the fire now heating the room, she
was still dreadfully cold.
 
Lifting it
from the bed, she gave it a few good shakes before setting it aside as she
shimmied out of her petticoats.
 
Tossing
them atop the mattress, she then wrapped the quilt around her body as she moved
to the small sofa.
 
After pulling off her
riding boots, she slid her silk stockings down her legs, laying them carefully
across the arm of the sofa before settling herself back against the thick
cushions.
 
Pulling her bare feet up from
the cold floor, she tucked them underneath her, drawing the edges of the quilt
tightly around her.

 
Chapter 6
 

Muttering under his breath, Alex vacillated between cursing
Tiffany for her foolishness and worrying about her well-being, for the rain had
been falling hard and steady for the past several minutes and as yet he’d seen
no sign of the wayward miss.
 
He could
only hope that she knew well-enough to seek cover rather than trying to make it
back to Sethe Manor, as the storm seemed to be worsening by the minute.
 
As a crack of thunder boomed overhead he
cringed, imagining how frightened she must be.
 
Urging his stallion forward, he scanned the surrounding area for any
sight of her, but alas, Tiffany Marlow was nowhere to be seen.
 
Familiar with the area, he knew that there
was a cottage not far from where he was now, a small dwelling that was
inhabited from time to time by the Leighton’s various estate managers, but he
had no idea if Tiffany knew of its existence.
 
If she did, would she have had the sense to seek refuge there, he
wondered?
 
As there was no other means of
adequate shelter that he knew of, he decided that it was worth checking.
 
A few minutes later he was on the path that led
to the isolated cottage.

 
 

As the warmth from the fire gradually drew the chill from
her bones, Tiffany sat quietly on the small sofa, listening to the steady
drumming of the rain upon the roof, the wind rattling the glass window panes
and the intermittent cracks of thunder that seemed to grow louder and louder
with each passing moment.
 
Closing her
eyes, she leaned her head back and tried to think about something else,
anything that might keep her from fretting over her present situation.
 
She gave a startled gasp of surprise however,
when the door swung open just a few seconds later and a fierce gust of wind
blew a cold, icy blast of rain into the small room.
 
She bolted upright and turned to the door,
her heart in her throat.
 
Eyes widening,
she was stunned to see the Earl of Chesterfield standing upon the threshold.

Taking in the scene before him, Alex could hardly believe
what he was seeing.
 
After discovering
the mare in the stable, he’d thought to find Tiffany huddled in fear within the
small cottage, frightened by the howling wind, driving rain and booming
thunder.
 
He sure as hell hadn’t expected
to find her curled up on the sofa, lounging before a warm, crackling fire as if
she hadn’t a care in the world.
 
For a
moment he wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or infuriated.
 
He decided on infuriated.

For a moment Tiffany merely stared at Alex in utter
disbelief, watching in stunned silence as rivulets of water dripped from every
part of his body to land in an ever widening pool at his feet.
 
He stood frozen in place, simply staring back
at her for several long seconds as the wind and rain swirled behind him.
 
And then, with a muttered curse, he finally
turned and slammed the door shut.
 
When
he spun back around to face her, she saw anger reflected in his grim
countenance.
 

“My lord, what…what on earth are you doing here?” she
uttered, completely unnerved by his unexpected appearance, not to mention his
foreboding expression.

Alex was cold, wet and growing angrier by the second.
 
“What am
I
doing here?” he demanded, his jaw dropping in incredulity.
  
He glared at her.
 
“Have you any notion as to the trouble you’ve
caused, young lady?”
 

Tiffany stiffened.
 
He
was looking at her as if she was a child who’d intentionally misbehaved.
 
Could this day possibly get any worse?
 
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” she replied
dolefully.
 
“And as I am sure to receive
a severe tongue-lashing from my father in regard to my thoughtlessness and
lamentable behavior soon enough, you needn’t trouble yourself, my lord.”
 
Turning back around, she returned her gaze to
the fire, fighting back the sudden sting of tears.
 

Alex faltered, caught off guard by her self-effacing air of
resignation.
 
Where had the little
spitfire from the night before gone, he wondered?

“I am very sorry that I caused you and the others undue
worry, for it was certainly not my intent,” she continued with quiet solemnity,
staring into the flickering flames.
 
“And
assuming that it was Ashleigh who sent you, I deeply regret that you felt
obliged to come looking for me.
 
She
shouldn’t have troubled you, for I am more than capable of taking care of
myself.”

Glancing about the room, he had to agree.
 
“Yes, I can see that you are.”
 
He felt his anger give way to a grudging
admiration.
 
Shrugging out of his riding
jacket, he hung it upon one of the pegs protruding from the nearby wall.

Tiffany could hear him moving about behind her, but she
didn’t turn around.
  
Oh, of all the
people she could have sent, why had Ashleigh sent Alex?
 
It was beyond humiliating.

Walking toward the fire, Alex glanced at the nearby chair,
noting that Tiffany’s wet riding skirt was draped across it.
 
Seeing that the other chairs had also been
put into service, he stepped around the end of the sofa, eyeing the empty seat
cushion next to Tiffany.
 
“May I?”

“Of course,” Tiffany replied, without looking at him.
 

Sitting down, he stretched his booted legs out in front of
the fire.
 
From the corner of his eye, he
glimpsed her pulling the quilt that swaddled her a little more tightly around
her shoulders.
 
He sat quietly for a
minute, studying the dancing flames, trying not to think of what Tiffany was
wearing, or rather what she
wasn’t
wearing, beneath that quilt.
 

Tiffany didn’t look at him, her eyes fixed directly ahead as
she attempted to focus upon something other than the discomfiting notion that
she was sitting just an arm’s length away from Alexander Warrene.
 
After last night, it was decidedly awkward to
say the least.
 
Of course, the fact that
she was practically naked, wrapped only in the cover of the thin quilt didn’t
help matters.

An uncomfortable couple of minutes passed before Alex spoke,
breaking the uneasy silence.
 
“Just so
you know, I didn’t come looking for you because I felt in any way
obliged
to do so.”
 

Hearing the softly uttered declaration, Tiffany fought the
urge to look at him, instead keeping her eyes focused upon the fire.
 
“Then why did you?”

He sat patiently, waiting until she finally turned to face
him before he answered.
 
When she did, he
held her gaze with his, his expression sincere.
 
“I came because I wanted to.
 
Because I was…concerned… about you,” he admitted.

“Oh.”
 
Tiffany felt
her heart give a tiny little flutter.

“Though clearly I needn’t have been.
 
Concerned
,
that is,” he said in a lighter, slightly teasing tone, glancing deliberately
toward the crackling fire.
 
“I have to
say, I’m impressed.”
 
He turned back to
her with an admiring grin.

Tiffany couldn’t help but smile in return.
 
It felt quite nice to know that she had
earned his respect, in one instance anyhow.
 
“Do you think the storm will last much longer?”

Alex settled back against the seat cushion.
 
“It’s hard to say.”

“My father is going to be furious with me,” Tiffany said,
her smile fading.

“Honestly, in all of the to-do it’s quite possible that no
one even noticed that you were missing from the group,” he told her.
 
“In fact, if we’re careful, we just might be
able to get you back to the house with your father, along with everyone else,
being none the wiser.”

“Do you really think so?” Tiffany asked in surprise.

“We shall certainly try,” Alex assured her.
 
“And Ashleigh will help.”

“Thank you, my lord.”
 
She would try to be optimistic and hope for the best.
 

“Alex,” he corrected with an easygoing smile.
 
“I should think that we ought to be on a
first name basis by now, don’t you?”
 

She nodded, feeling another tiny flutter in her chest.
 
“Thank you,
Alex
.”

“You’re welcome,
Tiffany
.”
 
Forcing his eyes from the delicate beauty of
her face, he leaned forward, stretching his hands toward the fire and rubbing
them together briskly.

Still clad in his wet shirt and trousers, Tiffany realized
that Alex must be dreadfully cold.
 
“You
must be freezing,” she said, her tone apologetic.

“It’s nothing.
 
Besides,
with this lovely fire you’ve got going, I shall be toasty warm soon enough.”

“I noticed a small trunk over there,” Tiffany said,
motioning to the sleeping area.
 
There
might be another quilt inside.”

Alex looked to where she was pointing.
 
Truth be told, he was chilled to the
bone.
 
“It’s worth a look, I
suppose.”
 
Rising from the sofa, he made
his way to the other side of the room.
 
Lifting the lid of the trunk, he was pleased to see that there was a
neatly folded stack of linen sheets and another large patterned quilt lying
inside.
 
Reaching into the trunk, he
grasped the quilt and then turned to Tiffany with a triumphant grin, holding
his prize aloft.
 

“Oh good,” she said, smiling brightly.
 
She was about to suggest that he give it a
good shake, but he was already striding toward the sofa.
 
Dropping back onto the seat next to her, he
grabbed the edges of the quilt and promptly flung it outward, engulfing them at
once in a swirling cloud of dust.

“Ugg,” Alex wheezed, coughing and waving the dust away with
his hand.

Tiffany would have been tempted to laugh if the dust
particles hadn’t already begun to tickle her nose.
 
Raising her hands to her mouth, she struggled
to fight back a fit of sneezing.
 
Unfortunately it was a worthless endeavor.
 
She sneezed once, twice and again a third
time.

“Sorry,” Alex muttered, still swatting at the air as he
turned to her with an apologetic smile.

“It’s alright.
 
I
should have warned you,” she said, sneezing once more before dropping her hands
into her lap.

As Alex’s eyes focused upon Tiffany, he became instantly
aware of the fact that the quilt she’d been holding around her had slipped from
her shoulders during her bout of sneezing.
 
Completely riveted, he seemed unable to tear his gaze from the sight of
her damp chemise as it clung like a second skin to the enticing curves of her
breasts.

Noting the sudden intensity of Alex’s regard, Tiffany
followed his gaze downward, realizing at once what had drawn his
attention.
 
Her eyes widened as they
became fixed upon her nearly transparent chemise.
 
Embarrassed, she grabbed at the edges of the
quilt, but in the very next second she froze, transfixed by heat of Alex’s
stare.

Tearing his gaze from Tiffany’s chest, Alex looked up.
 
They stared at each other in silence for a
seemingly endless moment.
 
With her long
blonde hair tangled about her naked shoulders and her blue eyes wide and
utterly mesmerizing, he seemed incapable of rational thought.
 
“God you’re beautiful.”
 
The words slipped passed his lips before he
could stop them.

His words were like a caress, sending tiny shivers racing
down her spine.
 
Held captive by the
weight of his intense silver gaze, Tiffany was unable to look away.
 

Alex’s hand twitched at his side.
 
Stop!
 
Don’t be a fool!
 
His brain shouted the silent warnings, but
unfortunately he had far too little experience with self-denial to heed
them.
 
The young woman before him was an
irresistible temptation, overriding all of his common sense.
 
As if in a trance, he raised his hand to her
face, brushing his thumb across her petal-soft cheek.

Her lips parted of their own accord, her pulse racing as
Alex leaned slowly toward her.
 
She felt
the intoxicating warmth of his breath in the instant before his lips touched
hers.
 
The kiss was long, undemanding,
and incredibly sweet.
 
Without conscious
effort, Tiffany’s hands moved to his chest, and then slowly crept upward to
twine around his neck, drawing him closer.
 
The contact of their bodies was exhilarating.
 
She could almost feel her heart thumping
wildly within her chest.
 
And then, as
his tongue teased her parted lips, slipping gently inside her mouth, she
couldn’t contain a low moan of desire.

BOOK: You, and Only You
4.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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