Page 23 of Courting Scandal With The Duke

B arbara had seen something like sympathy in Xavier’s piercing blue eyes. Had she somehow let her disappointment at her father’s abandonment for so many summers show in her voice?

The last thing she wanted was his pity.

She wanted him intrigued and enchanted, not pitying.

‘Show me the garden. Last time, I had an impression of lawn and trees lit by the moon, but very little else.’

His beautiful smile warmed her insides. ‘Certainly.’ He took her hand and brought her to her feet.

‘It is a very small property. I hope you will not be disappointed.’

He opened the French doors and they stepped outside.

‘As you see, it is quite secluded.’

It was indeed. Tall bushes and hedges obscured the view on both sides. Flower beds, with roses bushes not yet in bloom along with other plants, hugged each side of the lawn in front of the hedges.

Grass, recently mowed, swept down to the river, which was partially hidden by an enormous willow tree whose twisted branches dangled long pale green fronds into the water.

He linked his fingers with hers and they walked down the flagstone path to the edge of the water.

A small and ancient wooden platform jutted a couple of feet out from the bank. ‘No wonder our landing the other night was so unsteady,’ she said.

‘I know. I should never have attempted landing there in the dark. It could have ended in disaster.’

‘It was fun.’

His frown deepened. ‘It was reckless.’

She laughed. ‘Stop worrying so much.’ She turned to look at the cottage from this angle. ‘What a pretty place it is to be sure.’

They walked back up the gentle rise.

‘I think you have seen most of the inside,’ he said, ushering her in. ‘There is another bedroom at the front, which the last tenant used for a work room.’ He opened the door to a chamber that looked out onto the street.

The room was bare except for a large table and curtains at the window.

‘And next door here,’ he opened a door, ‘is a room for bathing.’

There was a large bath, a commode and a fireplace.

‘That bath is huge,’ she said.

‘I gather the previous owner was a large man who enjoyed bathing every day. He had this installed. I saw no point in changing it when I bought the house. But my tenant said it took far too much water to fill it and did not use it.’

‘So this house has not been in your family for generations.’

‘No. It is a recent acquisition. My tenant was the wife of an old family retainer. When he died she had nowhere to live, so I offered her this place.’

‘That was very kind of you.’

‘I saw it more as a duty than a kindness.’ He shut the door.

He did not like being accused of softer emotions, Barbara decided. Why would that be?

Perhaps it wasn’t ducal or something?

‘And here we are back at the bedroom.’ His voice deepened. Her blood hummed along her veins and the sensual note in his voice.

‘It looks just as charming in daylight as it did by candlelight,’ she said, trying not to sound breathless.

‘As do you.’

Warmth enveloped her. Pleasure at his compliment. She turned to face him.

He held his arms and she moved into his embrace.

‘You are a flatterer, Your Grace,’ she said, rising up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

He turned his head and his lips found her mouth instead.

They fit together so well, she thought vaguely. He was tall and broad of shoulder, yet their bodies aligned beautifully as he bent his head to kiss her deeply, his arms pulling her tight against him. She combed her fingers through the hair at his nape, caressed his shoulders, his back .

So lovely.

He made her feel slight and feminine instead of tall and gawky.

Both of her husbands had been on the short side and embraces had been uncomfortable.

He broke their kiss and gazed down at her. ‘Thank you for coming today. I wasn’t sure you would.’

Overcome by his obvious happiness, and unused to anyone really caring if she was present or not, she was about to make some flippant remark about who could refuse a duke, when she stopped herself.

He was, she was certain, being sincere. She had the feeling that to brush aside his appreciation would be hurtful.

‘I promised I would,’ she said. ‘And I would not go back on my word for all the world.’

His Adam’s apple in his strong column of throat moved as he swallowed.

His gaze travelled from her face and down her length. ‘You are so damned beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘I desire you more than I have desired any other woman.’

‘Good,’ she said, once more overwhelmed by the directness of his words.

His smile broadened. ‘Good? Is that all you have to say?’

‘What more is there to say?’ She leaned into him and rested her cheek on his chest, not wanting him to see her expression, lest he see the longing that had risen up inside her. The yearning to be truly loved.

It was an impossible dream.

‘Oh, I desire you also, Your Dukeness. And yet here we are shilly-shallying around having conversation.’

This time a little flippancy was needed. She’d learned how to do that early in her life. To guard her heart from pain.

‘Your Dukeness?’ He laughed, a low rumble in his chest against her ear. ‘What am I to do with such a saucy wench?’

She tilted her head and smiled up at him. ‘Your wish is my pleasure.’

He hissed out a breath. ‘Do you have any idea what those words do to me?’

She smiled innocently. ‘Naturally, I do.’

He groaned. ‘Then my wish is to see your hair down around your naked shoulders—as a start.’

She pulled the single pin strategically placed to hold the coiled locks in a bun at her nape.

Tenderly, he ran his fingers through her hair and brought it forward over her shoulders.

He nodded. ‘Lovelier than I had imagined.’ He lifted a brow. ‘But that is only the first part of my wish. Next…’

As if some mischievous deity peeped in through the window and approved of the unfolding scene, a beam of sunlight pierced the window and fell on Barbara’s face.

Xavier caught his breath at the gleam of gold on her skin. Like fairy dust. For a moment he was dumbstruck.

Inwardly, he shook his head at the fanciful notion. He forced himself to speak, yet words did not seem to express the feelings inside him.

Perhaps it was just as well.

‘I love how your hair waves at the ends.’

‘It is a terrible bother,’ she said, picking up a strand from her shoulder and looking at it with a frown. ‘I have sometimes thought about cutting it.’

‘Never,’ he said, horrified by the idea.

‘It is just hair. It takes ages to dry when I wash it. And ages to get the tangles out. You have no idea.’

He wanted to sit and brush the tangles out for her. To help her dry it before the fire.

He blinked. Never in his life had he felt such a peculiar longing. ‘I think you would be sorry if you cut it.’

‘No. I think you would be.’ She laughed and pressed her forehead to his. ‘Is this why we are here, to discuss my hair?’

He closed his eyes briefly. ‘No.’ He kissed her deeply and lost himself in the taste of her sweet mouth, the feel of her lips on his, the touch of their tongues, the feel of her back beneath his hands and the sensation of hers around his waist.

He wanted to be closer. Her narrow skirts impeded his desire. He reached behind her waist and tugged at the end of her gown’s laces.

He could not hold back his huff of impatience. ‘Why does ladies’ attire have to be so damnably complicated?’

She turned her back to him. ‘You will find it easier if you can see what you are doing. I assume you know how it works?’

Slightly affronted by her question, he quickly pulled free the ties, eased the gown off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

She stepped out of the puddle of cotton at her feet.

He frowned. There were no ties for her stays.

She spun around and he saw the fastenings were at the front between the rise of her full breasts. She undid them before his brain had a chance to direct his fingers to the task.

She cast them aside in a swift, practised movement.

He bent and kissed the rise of each breast where it rose above the sheer fabric of a chemise that left little to the imagination.

Her breasts were gorgeous. A lovely handful of ripe womanly flesh with rose pink peaks furled into tight buds.

He tested the weight of one in his hand and felt the hard little nub against his palm.

His cock, already hard, pressed unbearably against the fabric of his trousers.

He reached down and caught the hem of her chemise. Obligingly she lifted her arms in a sinuous motion, and he pulled the garment up and off over her head.

Her hair fell about her shoulders, the heavy locks falling over her breasts, hard nipples peeking between the river of chestnut strands.

Her waist was narrow, her stomach flat, with a tiny dimple hiding her belly button. Beautifully flared hips and a dark triangle of tight curls at the apex of her thighs almost brought him to his knees .

‘You are quite the loveliest—’

‘Do you always talk so much?’ she whispered, reaching out to untie his cravat.

He glanced at her face, her eyelids were heavy, her breathing rapid.

And suddenly he could wait no longer. He had to have her. Now.

He tore off his coats, pulled free his cravat. Pulled his shirt over his head.

All the while she watched him with that heavy-lidded gaze wandering down his body to his groin. Taking him in with and expression that said she might want to swallow him whole.

Naked but for shoes and hose, he picked her up and deposited her on the bed. He toed off his shoes, tore off his stockings and joined her. Kneeling by her side, he looked down at the glorious length of her, sprawled upon the pillows.

She liked to sprawl, limbs lax and open. She had done the same thing on the little barge the other night.

She knew what that did to him, for her gaze was fixed on the evidence.

He lay down beside her, and she turned towards him, arching into him, skin to skin, her breasts flattening against his chest, her head tilting up, her lips searching for his mouth.

He pressed her back and came over her.