Page 78

S ebastian stood in his study, sipping his brandy and watching the setting sun cast pink and orange hues over the horizon. It was a dramatic end to a dramatic day. But was he glad to see the back of it?

He could not decide.

Kissing Lady Rose had been a revelation. She was softness and sweetness combined. For years he had imagined taking her in his arms, but the reality had proven more intoxicating than any fantasy. He could have kissed her all day.

If only Elin had not been so devilishly keen to interrupt them.

His face contorted into a grimace, and he banged his empty glass down onto the desk.

A pain threaded through his temples as he recalled the suitably stricken expressions of the doughty dames who had hurried to help his sister hunt for her distraught friend—only to find the young lady in question being ravished by the Duke of Alnwick.

In full public view.

In Elin’s opinion, the whole thing had gone swimmingly. She didn’t know whether she was best pleased with herself, for concocting the plan in the first place, or with Rose, who—in Elin’s eyes—had vastly exceeded all expectations.

“Word will already be flying back to London,” she’d announced on the carriage ride back home, all but rubbing her hands together with glee. “Rose, no decent man will ever court you after this.”

Rose had sat quietly in the corner with her blue gaze fixed on the mid-distance. She smiled, however, at Elin’s words and for a terrible moment he had been beset by doubts.

Had lovely Lady Rose masterminded the whole affair? From her humiliation in the coffee house to their embrace on the sands before a crowd of willing spectators?

If so, she was one in a long line of debutantes ready and willing to use their feminine wiles to manipulate a situation to their advantage.

With Sebastian as the sacrificial victim.

He had sat back in the carriage, oblivious to Elin’s chatter, almost paralyzed with doubt as he replayed the sequence of events in his mind.

He had followed Rose down to the beach of his own free will. He had been the one to kiss her.

Hadn’t he?

Or was beautiful Rose pulling his strings like a puppet?

Three hours later, having eschewed dinner to sit alone in his study, Sebastian still could not decide.

The four walls of the study seemed to close in around him, as the last rays of sun disappeared beyond the horizon.

The tightness of his cravat made it difficult to breathe.

He tugged it loose and eyed the bottle of brandy, but the answers he sought would not be found at the bottom of a glass.

Would not be found full stop, for he could not properly articulate the question, not even to himself.

Why should it matter whether Rose was a cunning temptress or an innocent swept away by a high tide of events?

Either way, she would be off to Scotland come the morn.

And his life would continue as planned: one of duty and discipline.

And loneliness.

“Enough,” he muttered.

Seized by impulse, he left the study, his long legs carrying him down the narrow entrance hall and out into the welcoming balminess of a summer night.

Warm air, sweetly scented with rose blossom, caressed his cheeks and the distant rushing of waves beckoned him forwards.

Without considering his destination, he set off for the cove, where the steady rhythms of the waves might calm the endless circling of his thoughts.

But when he rounded the corner and stepped onto the sand, he saw that he was not alone.

A tall, slender woman, clad only in a white night rail, stood with her bare feet in the shallows.

He was surprised and not surprised. A lump formed in his throat as he surveyed the perfection of the moonlit scene. Rose’s face was turned towards the sea, her golden hair rippling over her shoulders. She was not yet aware of his presence.

He could slip away, unseen.

Or he could seek his resolution.

“Lady Rose,” he said.

She lifted her head higher, but did not turn around. The silvery moonlight made a silhouette of her body. “My lord.”

“I hoped I might have the opportunity to speak to you, alone.”

Now she turned, her blue eyes shining through the semidarkness. “You want to ask me if I lured you down to the beach at Hawkesmere.”

His breath caught in his throat, rendering him momentarily speechless.

“Whether I am trying to entrap you. Following in the footsteps of Miss Arabella Evermore and her like.”

“No.” His denial rang out forcibly, even though Rose’s accusation had the spark of truth. But just a moment in her presence was enough to dispel the doubts that had carried him here.

He yanked off his boots and stockings, wobbling a little in the shifting sands. Then he walked out to join her, enjoying the rush of cool water between his toes. He clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head backwards to look at the vast, darkening sky.

“I know that what happened between us was not a result of planning or design. It happened because I have long been attracted to you, Rose. And because I could not bear to see you upset.”

She said nothing, though he could feel the tremor in her blue gaze as it fixed on his profile.

“It happened because I wanted it to,” he added. “I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you again, now.”

She let out a little sound of surprise, but now Sebastian had found his flow of words, he discovered they could not be dammed.

“I turned my back on society because too much about it is false and insincere. But there is nothing artificial about you. You are like a wild rose, pure and good and so very beautiful.”

As if in a dream, he walked closer, sea water rushing up his ankles and soaking the legs of his breeches. He reached out and ran his fingers through her waterfall of silken hair. His palm settled on her shoulder before cupping her cheek. She closed her eyes with a sigh, leaning into his caress.

Time stood still. Sebastian saw he was at a crossroads. He could turn away, walk back to the house, continue with his days as he had always intended.

Or he could stay.

He closed the gap between them, stepping behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and lowering his lips to her neck.

His hands encountered warm flesh, barred to him only by the thin flimsiness of her night rail.

In another moment she had swiveled around and laid her palms on his chest. For a painful moment, he thought she might be pushing him away, but then she smiled and all he knew was how much he wanted her.

“You have been honest with me, Sebastian. So, I should do the same.”

He could not stop his hands from exploring her body. They ran from her shoulders to the soft swell of her hips, lingering in the narrowness of her waist.

“I have long been attracted to you, too,” she said in a rush. “I wanted to kiss you in Hawkesmere. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since we danced one long-ago Christmas at Alnwick Castle.”

The bold simplicity of her declaration inflamed his desire further. The fabric of her night rail bunched beneath his fingers as he skimmed the curve of her belly.

“I want to kiss you now,” she whispered.

“Your wish is my command, my lady.”

He kissed her in the silvery glow of moonlight, while warm waves lapped around their ankles and the slightest of breezes fanned through her golden hair.

She tasted of honey and vanilla. Her lips were soft, her body firm as it pressed against his.

He stroked the length of her spine and trailed kisses over her shoulder until his lips were nudging beneath the lace of her robe.

His need for her became all consuming, as urgent and unceasing as the rushing of the tides.

She tipped back her head so he might kiss her throat, wrapping her fingers in his hair and holding him close.

“Rose.” His voice was as deep and gravelly as the bottom of the sea. “I want to do more than just kiss you.”

Would his honesty shock her? So be it. Icy disapproval was all that could stop him now.

She pulled away, breathing fast. “I want that too.”

He groaned, “Do you know what you say?”

She rose up on her tiptoes and claimed his mouth again. “I believe I know what I say. But I need you to show me what to do.”

His last vestige of restraint was lost forever. In one smooth movement, he gripped the night rail and pulled it over her head, tossing it behind him onto the sand as his eyes roved over the smooth perfection of her body.

“You are beautiful.”

She reached for him again and this time he scooped her up out of the waves, moaning with dizzy pleasure as she wrapped her long legs around his waist. He held her easily, exploring her small, round breasts with his lips and slowly encountering her rosy nubs with his tongue.

All the while, desire flickered in his core like a flame that would not be denied.

He carried her to the shore and laid her gently on the dry sand, wanting only to give her pleasure.

His fingers trailed a path inside her slender thighs, pausing at her curls and then slipping inside like a man finally coming home.

“Sebastian.”

His name on her lips was an invitation. He fastened his lips onto her breast as her pleasure mounted and she writhed beneath him. It took a moment too long for him to realize that she was reaching for his falls, her inexpert touch almost more than he could safely withstand.

“Rose,” he gasped. But then he sprang free, and she wrapped her hand around him. All rational thought was lost in the wondrous, urgent sensations coursing through every fiber of his being.

When she guided him towards her, he did not, could not resist. He only found his balance and drove inside, eyes tightly closed, the fingers of one hand entwined with hers.

They rocked together in a dance as old as time, their cries releasing into the balmy night air to join with the rushing of the waves.

He held out until her pleasure had peaked, then surged towards release with her name echoing on his lips.

His hips bucked as he poured himself into her, reality only taking hold several seconds later when his vision cleared, and he gazed down into her familiar blue eyes.

“Lovely Rose.”

He floundered for what to say next. For he would offer her everything, all that he had and all that he was. But Sebastian had never made such an offer, and the right words did not come readily to mind.

Before he could gather his thoughts, Rose had pressed a finger to his lips.

“Do not say anything,” she whispered.

He raised his eyebrows.

She held his gaze. “This was a beautiful moment between us.”

He balanced on his elbow, unable to stop a smile plucking up the corners of his lips.

“Most certainly, it was.”

“There is no need for promises.” She took a breath. “Or false apologies.”

He rested his head on his arm, breathing her in. “My wild rose.”

Gently, she traced the curve of his shoulder. “There is no need for anything more.”