Page 41 of Lyon’s Obsession (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #91)

I apologize, my lady. Your father has expressed his dismay at my lack of suitors for you.

Originally, there were three, but I customarily do not respond to some, for I would not have you exposed to a young man worried more for his success in the form of the bet than actually winning your heart.

In truth, many fear both Lord Duncan’s connections, as well as Lord Marksman’s reputation with a gun.

Lord Marksman has paid my fee and accepted the bet I offered him. He has yet to complete it, but I am of the persuasion that he will do so as a means to prove himself to you.

“What bet did you accept?” Dora demanded.

“Just a bit of embarrassment, but not something dangerous,” he assured.

“I do not require your embarrassment,” she argued. “Neither Emma nor I knew anything about bets.”

“Your father and I did not think you were aware of all Mrs. Dove-Lyon asks of those to whom she offers the opportunity to win a bet. Sometimes I wonder if the bets are not purposely designed to belittle the aristocracy. It is as if the lady wishes to punish all of the upper-crust, though the word ‘all’ is likely an exaggeration. Her late husband’s family have treated the woman poorly, but such is another story. ”

He again closed the distance between them, and, although Dora wanted to curl into his embrace and never come out, a bit of defensiveness still remained.

Alexander had always been a man who liked perfect order in his world.

His childhood had been so chaotic that once he had come under Lord Duncan’s steady hand and had learned something of “order,” Xander had discovered he enjoyed the feeling of knowing what to expect.

However, his attachment to Theodora was everything but “orderly.”

He instinctively moved closer to her. Beaufort occasionally called Dora c lúacán, meaning “a sprite.” According to his friend, the cluricaune is one of three different solitary fairies in Ireland, the other two being a “ far darrig ” and the other a leprechaun.

In Scotland, some would call Theodora a will-o’-the-wisp because a wisp is often misleading or elusive.

Like the will-o’-the-wisp , Theodora had been dropped into Alexander’s life. He had once promised to find his mother and share her with Theodora, who had lost Lady Elsbeth when she was quite young.

Without his cognizance of the situation, Dora had been dropped into his life when he had been brought under her father’s roof, and she had changed Alexander forever. Hard to admit, but, sometimes, he desired her so much it hurt. Other times, she made him quite livid with anger.

Of late, Alexander’s desire for her had grown, but Theodora was like searching for the illusive pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, and he assuredly was not worth anything near a pot of gold in either wealth or reputation.

Yet, when around her, he wanted Dora with a desire so primitive Alexander could not put words to his feelings.

The sum of the matter said he simply could not imagine his life without her.

Though she had bitten her bottom lip to keep from protesting, he tugged her into his embrace. Even so, she remained defiantly stiff. A will-o’-the-wisp tended to be difficult to catch, but when one had it in his grasp, a person should never let it go, and Alexander would not release Theodora now.

“Are you going to agree to marry me, Dora?” he asked as he leaned down to nibble on her ear.

“No,” she said again, but the sting had disappeared from her tone.

“Then who am I to marry?” he asked as he peppered her cheeks with kisses. “Do you wish to view me with another?”

“No,” she repeated, but it was more of a whimper.

“You still wish to marry me, and I still wish to marry you. I suggest we cease fighting and plan how we may move forward.”

“Is it not too late?” she asked, but even she must have heard hints of hope in her tone.

“Do you not know? It is never too late.” With that, he covered her mouth with his.

Immediately, whether she wished it or not, her body responded to Alexander’s kiss.

A sigh slipped from her mouth. It was a confirmation of how his kiss always made her feel.

He wrapped his arms about her and tucked her into his body.

Theodora abandoned her fight, nuzzling herself into that little indenture in his side where she fit perfectly, as if God knew how much she would require this man in her life.

With a bittersweet urgency tying them together, they had always complemented each other well.

His kisses were as addictive as a sugary treat, one for which Theodora would always crave. She was in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

Xander took his time, kissing her both slowly, but demandingly.

His tongue slid across her lips, soothing the pressure of moments earlier.

“Humm…” he groaned and a matching “humm” crept upward, escaping her lips as they recaptured their breath.

An identical groan of pleasure slipping from both their lips indicated their growing desire.

“We should step back,” he groaned, and Theodora knew delight at having tempted him so completely. “But not yet.”

Her heart beat out a tattoo of surrender.

Though she had fought the idea of staying in his arms, her body clung to his—it softened, but it remained pliant with desire.

Her hands slid up the planes of his chest to capture his chin line in her palms. A primal desire passed between them: Theodora felt it to the core of her most private parts, and his manhood responded with a jerk of anticipation.

A sigh of need passed from his lips to hers, and Dora instinctively swallowed it, claiming the essence of Lord Alexander Dutton as hers.

Did they fit so perfectly together because they had known each other for more than a decade?

Or was it something only God understood?

As they touched each other intimately and tenderly, she knew what he was thinking at this time: His mind was pledged to honoring his promises to her father, but his body wished to be aligned perfectly with hers.

He was as heated with desire as was she.

His body won out, for her hand shifted, sliding down his front to rest above where his member was so swollen it hurt. Where had she learned that bit of bravery? Likely from Lady Orson. Someday, Xander must thank her ladyship for the effort of teaching Dora what might please him.

Alexander held perfectly still, waiting impatiently for her fingers to close over him.

Theodora had never been so bold, and he knew she was considering all the ramifications of her choices.

Though he wished her to touch him intimately, it was necessary for the choice to be hers; therefore, he barely breathed.

He wanted to back her towards the bed and take up where they had left off the last time they had been alone in this very room together. Yet, he had promised Duncan not to stay the night, but Alexander had not promised that he would not spend part of it with her.

Her finger, just one of them, traced up and down the length of him, and hot desire filled Xander’s chest and mind.

He knew if he did not stop her now, they would be in her bed.

Unfortunately, Alexander knew he would want her more than once.

Moreover, their first encounter could not be a rush.

Doing so would not be fair and not in the manner in which Dora deserved. She should be loved often and slowly.

Making himself edge back was one of the most difficult things he had ever executed. “I cannot permit this to go further,” he said with an exhale of elemental need. The fact her eyes were glazed over in desire made him wish to finish this interlude.

He cupped her chin with one hand and lifted her long braid with the other and allowed it to drop behind her, dangling down to her waist. Soon, he would run his fingers through her hair and fist it in his hands. That was a promise Alexander meant to keep.

“We are good together, Dora. You know it. I know it. Hell, half the civilized world knows it. I plan to woo you as I should have done previously. You made it too easy for me. Do not continue to make it easy. You deserve better.” He purposely crossed to the door and yanked it open.

“I want you to demand that the people around you treat you better.

You did so with Count Almano, but you do not do so with those who love you. All your brothers. Your father. And me.

“You have allowed us not to consider your desires and dreams. Therefore, I am asking you to avoid being so accommodating. If you do not wish to leave the house on a particular day, express your regrets. I am giving you permission to offer alternative choices. Bargain, not to the point of being a harpy. Rather be the beautiful young woman we all love, even if she periodically holds contrary opinions. I believe such works well with Lady Emma. She is a good model for you. I like her being your friend. In the future, I will expect you to model the appropriate behavior for my sister Annalise, who I suspect has a bit too much meekness to survive the haut ton .”

“I was not kind to Lady Annalise,” she admitted.

“You did not possess all the facts, but your emotions were genuine. Just do not put yourself in danger again. Chastise me for being deceptive and then tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Alexander Dutton,” she said softly as tears rushed to her eyes.

“And I love you, Lady Theodora Duncan,” he assured.

“Sleep well, love. Tomorrow, I will bring around an array of rings that other brides in the Dutton family have worn. You may choose the one you want as an engagement ring. I will have something special made for our wedding.” With that, Alexander kept his promise to Duncan, but Xander wished to return to Theodora’s quarters and her bed and demonstrate the feelings coursing through him at this moment.

“No long engagements,” he murmured as he left the house.

“Sainthood is not possible for a child of the rookeries.”