“What were you thinking, then?” She brushed a loose tendril of hair from her cheek and watched his face curiously.
Never in her life had she asked a man what was on his mind. With Edward she would never have dared. Nor would she have probably wanted to know. With Nicholas, she already felt she could ask freely with impunity.
“That I spend entirely too much time in the city. Too much time up late at the parties and soirees, too much time at my club, too much time in my study and with my solicitors.” He shrugged, his glossy dark hair holding a hint of blue it was so black, like a raven’s wing in the slanting sunshine. “I keep telling myself, when the time comes to settle my life into a less hectic pattern, I will know it.”
Inevitably, he meant taking a wife and begetting an heir. She felt an unexpected pang of realization. This wager was about casual conquest and her own enlightenment. What happened after their time together was over hardly mattered.
She did her best to sound nonchalant. “You are still young, though I imagine your family expects you to do your duty.”
His profile was patrician and a little stern. For a moment, he didn’t look at all like the sophisticated rakehell but instead almost grim. His voice even took on a chill. “Indeed they do.”
It was none of her business, but somehow she found herself saying, “But you are reluctant?”
“I’m patently uninterested in taking a wife simply to procreate.” There was a restive edge to his tone.
A curious position for a peer to take, since he’d probably known since he was in short pants he’d have to do just that. “You have romantic sensibilities.”
“No.”
“If I interpreted what you just said correctly, you want to fall in love.”
His mouth twisted in a cynical smile. “I’m afraid you completely
misinterpreted
what I said, my dear. Falling in love is not something I expect will ever happen to me, nor would I want it. I don’t think I even believe it is possible.”
If ever she’d heard conviction in anyone’s voice, those words echoed it. The assertion was a little incongruous from the same man who she now knew firsthand was capable of infinite and unselfish tenderness. “We all want to be loved,” she ventured, though she was probably the last person on earth who was an authority on the subject.
“Being loved is not the same as loving someone else.”
Her horse ambled around a small bush and she absently guided it back to the path. “I suppose that’s true.”
She didn’t know much about men, but there was an uncharacteristic tightness in his tone that even she couldn’t miss.
This discussion was personal on some level unknown to her.
He smiled again then, shaking it off, that glimmer of wicked, compelling charm that captivated every woman in sight surfacing instead. “If you tell anyone you debated sentimental attachment with the Devilish Duke, I will deny it, my sweet, so please keep it to yourself.”
If she told anyone, he would be more besieged than ever by eager young ladies wanting to capture not just his title and fortune, but his heart. However, she wouldn’t. Caroline pointed out with unerring truth, “I am not supposed to know you except in the most casual and distant of ways, remember? I could hardly claim to know anything about your personal sentiments on any matter, much less marriage.”
He gazed at her, their horses walking slowly past a copse of slender willows with long branches trailing into the sluggish clear water. The sun felt very warm on her back. “I have a feeling it is going to be a little difficult to pretend we don’t know each other after this week is over. I am told a woman does not forget her first lover.”
There was no doubt he was absolutely correct, because what Edward had done to her disqualified him from that label.
Nicholas couldn’t be more different and though her body wasn’t virginal, he was right—he would be her first lover.
It was amazing to realize it, but she was losing her apprehensive fears and looking forward to it.
Maybe even very much looking forward to it.
Caroline cleared her throat. “I am sure that is true, for you are right—I will not forget your . . . kindness.”
Amusement made his mouth twitch. “Kindness? An odd word to describe carnal desire, my sweet. Since you are here for self-proclaimed sexual tutelage, let me continue in my role as instructor by informing you that your enjoyment when we lie together will be paramount to my own. To know he gives a woman pleasure is a powerful aphrodisiac for any man.”
Unfortunately, she knew firsthand he was wrong. It was like being dashed with cold water. Quietly, she said, “Not all of them, Nicholas. I wish I could say that with less assurance.”
In the resulting awkward silence between them, the dull thud of their horse’s hooves and the trill of a songbird were the only sounds. He said finally, “I was just presumptuous again. My apologies.”
She didn’t want to think about her dark marriage, not on such a glorious day, not when she was with the most attractive man in England and they had the rest of what promised to be a very memorable week ahead of them. She gave him a mischievous smile. “I think, Your Grace, you were born presumptuous. Luckily for you, I find it part of your appeal.”
“You find me appealing? Perhaps I made an impression last night after all.” He seemed more than willing to shy away from the serious direction of their conversation and return to his usual lighthearted teasing. “Care to tell me what part you found most enlightening?”
That wasn’t hard to answer and she owed him a great deal. “All of it.”
It was true. Those devastatingly soft, persuasive kisses, the delicacy of his intimate touch, the gift of a pleasure she hadn’t imagined existed.
Almost instantly, his face changed. Softly he said, “I think I might learn as much from you, my icy Lady Wynn, as you do from me this week.”
Chapter Eleven
T
he dappled sunlight fell across the verdant grass in the small clearing, the quiet sound of the river soothing. Nicholas dismounted and turned to lift Caroline from the saddle, his hands lingering on her slim waist as he set her down. He smiled lazily into her upturned face. “This is a rather pleasant spot, isn’t it? Private also.”
Her dainty brows arched upward. “Is that important?”
It was damned important because since almost the moment they’d gotten out of bed that morning, he’d been assessing his overwhelming desire to get her right back into it. However, a bed wasn’t necessary, not with a secluded romantic spot available, and he didn’t want to wait until they retired to make love to her.
Restraint was all well and good, but how long need he hold back?
Unfortunately, the answer was simple. Until she was ready. There was a huge difference between what she would allow him to do and what she wanted him to do. At any time since her arrival she would have allowed it. But most certainly yesterday afternoon and the night before, she hadn’t felt desire, he thought, just capitulation.
But if he had his way, and he intended to, she would learn.
He wasn’t sure exactly why he was so fascinated with the lovely but inexperienced Lady Wynn, but he was. Part of it was her candor, part of it was her beauty, and to his surprise, he wondered if part of it wasn’t also the hint of vulnerability when she looked at him with those glorious silver eyes.
Usually, that alone would make him run away as fast as possible. Vulnerable young ladies made his defenses shoot straight up.
“I thought we might sit a while in the shade.” His lashes dropped a fraction and his gaze lowered to her mouth. “And admire the view. We could discuss literature, since it is one of your passions.”
“Somehow I never pictured the Devilish Duke as someone who would perch by a stream and contemplate the beauty of nature or the structure of a poem. Society would believe that even less than he had an opinion on the subject of love.”
“You will be able to attest they are wrong.”
“Will I?” One brow arched up and she laughed. “I’m trying to imagine what your opinion on Homer or Rousseau might be.”
Her smile was all too rare and it fascinated him. Like the woman, it was a mixture of reserve and underlying sensuality, he thought, gazing down at her. Lazily, he drawled, “Are you implying I’m a Philistine, Lady Wynn?”
“Earthy pleasures seem more your domain, Your Grace.”
“Allow me to change your opinion of my character.”
Her reply was
almost
flirtatious. “You can try.”
Thus challenged, how could he back away? Nicholas chose a soft spot overlooking the meander of the river, the grass springy and fragrant there, the earth even. They sat and talked while their horses grazed—again, Nicholas found himself captivated by the way Caroline’s eyes lit up when she fixed on a salient point to debate with him. Her old governess’s independent views had been varied indeed, he discovered as they discussed everything from architecture to religion. Caroline said Miss Dunsworth—whom she recalled with a sentimental look in her remarkable eyes—had encouraged her education in every way possible, not just the usual interests of refined young ladies.
“She died of a lung infection,” she said, a small catch in her voice, “just near the end of my sixteenth year. I still miss her.”
It gave him the opening to steer the conversation with deliberate intent back to her family.
He idly twirled a long blade of grass between his fingers, watching her face from beneath his slightly lowered lashes. “You have no desire to go back to York, I take it.”
Without hesitation, Caroline shook her head. She looked delectable in a simple blouse, riding skirt, and half boots. Though she sat in prim ladylike decorum with her legs tucked to the side, she still managed to look adorably desirable. “I won’t ever go back.”
“That sounds definite.”
“It is.” A brief flicker of melancholy crossed her face. “Nor does my father want me there either.”
“Then he’s a fool.” Nicholas reached out and touched her hand.
His prior restraint, he found, was slipping. Her increasing ease with him fueled his level of interest. Usually sitting and conversing about intellectual topics with a woman was not something he did, and he certainly never expected it to cause sexual arousal, but with her it was different. How curious.
She glanced at him. “How nice you have a sister.”
Nicholas rarely thought about it, but the wistful look on Caroline’s face made him conscious of his good fortune in his family. He wanted to comfort her, to promise she would find contentment and acceptance, but how the devil did he do that?
The only kind of real solace he knew how to offer her was physical and his body at the moment clamored for him to proceed.
Seduction was much more familiar than emotional indecision.
Leaning forward, he brushed his mouth against hers, ignoring her start of surprise. Other than lifting her from her horse, he’d made no move to touch her. He whispered, “There’s something exhilarating about making love out of doors. It’s more primal.”
“Here?”
He kissed her in answer to that breathless question, amused at her shocked reaction, his hands already busy. He loosened her hair first, because he wanted to feel the satin weight of it when warmed by the sun, her fragrance tantalizing as he deepened the kiss. To his gratification her arms crept around his neck and while she didn’t precisely cling to him, she rested in willing compliance in his embrace.
Compliance again, he realized with an inner grimace of resignation. This was certainly taking some effort on his part. The odd part was he was enjoying the challenge, despite a certain understandable level of frustration.
The swell of his erection was immediate and his heart already beat faster as he admired the compelling glory of her beauty. His enjoyment was enhanced by the sound of the gentle passage of the water barely audible above the quickened rasp of their breathing. Nicholas murmured, “Undress for me. I want to watch. There is nothing more arousing than a woman’s body being revealed bit by bit.”
Well, that wasn’t precisely true. Watching a woman kiss her way down your body and take your rigid cock in her mouth might eclipse her stripping, but Caroline was not ready for that yet by any means. This week was supposed to be about her pleasure and not just because of that blasted wager either. No woman so beautiful and innately sensual should have to fear sexual intimacy.
He waited, one arm propped over his bent knee, his pose purposely casual except for the bulge of his growing erection filling his fitted breeches.
There was just a moment of hesitation before she stood and began to unbutton her blouse. Through heavy-lidded eyes Nicholas observed each fastening slip free before she tugged the garment from the band of her riding skirt and slipped it off. Boots, stockings, and skirt went next, her cheeks becoming more and more pink as she disrobed. Finally she pulled loose the ribbon on her chemise and lifted her chin, but didn’t let the lacy material slide off her shoulders.
“Don’t stop now,” he said persuasively. “The best is yet to come.”
“You have all your clothes on.” She stood there, a bare-foot temptress, her hand holding the bodice of her shift together.
“Do you want me to take them off?” He held her gaze.
He wanted to make sure she knew—with him—she always had a choice. He usually preferred to take the lead in sexual games, but he was willing to make concessions to make sure she never felt overwhelmed.
“I am sure you are aware that you are considered to be very handsome. Is there some reason I cannot admire you in the same way?”
That was direct enough. Once again, no wiles.
“Whatever my lady wishes.” He grinned and tugged at the heel of one boot, still keeping his gaze riveted on her.
With an artless, trembling smile, she let her chemise go and it pooled around her feet.