“Nicholas—”
“Shh.”
He took her mouth in a searing kiss because he didn’t want to talk, to analyze the why and wherefore of his presence, his tongue seeking entrance, finding it, and brushing hers. Caroline’s arms crept around his neck and she leaned into the embrace, the pliant slender weight of her negligent in comparison with his much larger frame. At least her fear was entirely gone, he thought as he explored her mouth with leisurely heated pleasure, and, from the way she kissed him back, her willingness not in question.
The carriage rattled along, swaying slightly as they took a corner, their bodies and mouths together so they moved as one against the motion. Nicholas realized he was breathless when he lifted his head, his erection now an iron length that protested the confinement of his tailored breeches.
Soon.
First he eased the material of her gown off one slim feminine shoulder and pulled it down, lower and lower until a full, taut breast spilled free. He bent his head and licked the ripe peak, tasting her nipple, teasing it, making Caroline shift in his arms.
“Oh . . .” A throaty moan rippled out.
It was shadowed secretive pleasure, the gentle sift of her fingers through his hair and the arch of her spine as he suckled her breast bringing deep pure male satisfaction. A bed would be preferable, he thought as he subtly aroused her, easing one hand under her gown and gliding his fingers along a smooth warm inner thigh to find wet tantalizing heat, but he’d take this if it was all he could have.
Maybe she was right. Maybe he was spoiled by his past encounters with his lovers; maybe he did take for granted the risk she’d incur in any involvement because of his cursed notoriety.
And maybe he shouldn’t fuck her in a moving carriage simply because he didn’t have the self-restraint to accept her refusal.
In the act of lifting her skirts, the soft fabric bunched in his hands and his straining body clamoring for speed, he hesitated. It was an unfortunate moment to have an attack of conscience, but it seemed that was what was happening. He took in a deep shuddering breath. “How many times in our acquaintance am I going to have to beg forgiveness for my arrogant presumption? Do you want this, Caroline?”
She exhaled in a small laugh, her breath warm against his cheek. “Don’t I seem enthusiastic?”
“Not when you climbed into the carriage.”
“That was in objection to the implications of your presence, not your actual person.” She leaned closer and kissed him, their lips softly clinging, her half-bared body rubbing against him. When she drew back, she whispered, “The risk has been taken, so please don’t waste it. I’ve been thinking about you, Nicholas.”
“I’m a selfish ass, as the risk is all yours and I didn’t give you a choice.”
Her hand slipped downward and she touched the bulge between his legs. “Can we debate this in a few minutes, please?”
“You’re sure?”
“God, yes, Nicholas . . . hurry.”
The fluid power of the man who held her would once have made her feel intimidated and vulnerable, but now Caroline reveled in it as he shifted her easily, unfastened his breeches with swift deftness so his hard cock was free, and grasped her waist.
“Lift your skirts.” The rasp of the command indicated his need and she gloried in the idea he wanted her, even if it was only a physical communion. Caroline complied, pulling them above her waist, and she spread her legs as he lifted her up so she was poised above his lean hips. They joined slowly, her hand guiding his rigid length as he lowered her, the sensation spectacular and sinfully reckless in the confines of the moving equipage, surrounded by the city streets.
She felt wicked, but she also felt an odd freedom as she sheathed his erection in her needy body. Straddling his lap, she began to move at his urging, small upward slides and downward motions. Strong hands held her hips and he thrust into her as she rose, obviously impatient but still controlled, their gazes locked as they moved toward a common erotic goal.
Desire soared to new heights, her senses saturated, the rocking motion of the vehicle part of the rhythm of their lovemaking. Nicholas held her, somehow a combination of leashed strength and gentleness, giving as he took with the glitter of fierce desire in his dark seductive eyes. His heady male scent added fuel to the fire already lashing through her body, familiar, evocative of haunting memories of the same beguiling, unforgettable pleasure.
Her lips parted as she began to gasp, trying to stifle an open moan but reaching that place where she no longer cared if Huw heard them, or even if all of London were witness to her abandoned rapture. The pinnacle was there suddenly, white-hot bright and pulsing. She clung to him as the first orgasmic ripples took her prisoner and held her in a vise grip, and she muffled a scream against his fine velvet coat.
In turn, his hands tightened almost painfully and his hips shifted upward with a turbulent surge and she could feel his tall body shudder. Once, twice, and a third jerk as he ejaculated and they hung suspended, fused together in mutual, overwhelming ecstasy.
Half-insensible, Caroline went limp against him, only partially conscious of his mouth against her hair, of the now tender, easy clasp of his arms. They stayed that way, still joined, their breathing gradually slowing. A low laugh eventually rumbled from his chest under her ear. “I believe I’d like nothing more than to ride around in carriages the rest of my life.”
“Feel free to invite me to join you.” The words were a low mumble, her body so lax against him she felt boneless.
“Don’t tempt me. As you may have noticed, self-control isn’t my strongest attribute when it comes to you. Suggestions like that won’t keep me at bay.”
There was an edginess to his soft tone and he moved, just a slight shift, but she felt it acutely.
So far, she had a feeling Derek’s idea to prod Nicholas’s usual effortless detachment with jealousy seemed to be working, but was it just simple lust? A moment ago it had felt like it, but the way he held her now, cradled against him, suggested otherwise. “You know my reasons for wanting to keep even the suggestion of a passing acquaintance a secret,” she said, listening to the strong beat of his heart through the layers of his fashionable clothing.
“Yes.”
“But you don’t agree.”
“I understand. It still doesn’t make me happy about it. Obviously.”
“Or you wouldn’t have contrived to hide in my carriage.” That he taken such action made her smile, though it was rash and ill-advised.
“Not my usual way of approaching a lady, I admit.”
It was a dash of icy reality to hear him say “usual.” It reminded her of what and who he was, and she willed enough strength into her body to sit up. She was still open-legged across his lap with his sex inside her, the froth of her skirts bunched around them. She could feel the material of his breeches against her inner thighs.
“I’m very grateful to you but . . . wary.”
In the muted darkness, his sculpted features were a little mysterious and his expression could have meant anything. “Of scandal. Because I’m Rothay.”
Why lie? “Yes.”
“I’m wary of you too, my chilly Lady Wynn.”
Caroline lifted her brows a fraction, hope flaring, her palms suddenly damp against his tailored coat. “How so?”
There was a palpable hesitation.
“Well, my impulse to lurk uninvited in carriages for one.” His teeth gleamed white in a slow, lazy smile. “My grand consequence would be compromised should anyone find out. So you see, your secret is very safe with me.”
And she realized at that moment he’d dismissed any serious tone to the conversation. He was very, very good at it too.
She smothered her disappointment, reminding herself with cool practicality that he was the most unlikely man on earth to fall to his knees and spout poetic declarations of love so easily. It appeared she’d given him what he wanted and it was more than enough. Incipient lust was assuaged, he was content, and she was a distraction that could be forgotten. If he’d been jealous, it was a passing thing, like a child seeing someone else playing with his favorite toy.
Caroline murmured, “I don’t believe I’ve thanked you for my inventive gift. My butler isn’t quite as charmed to have a puppy underfoot, but I must admit I find it vastly entertaining.”
“You’re welcome. It seemed like an endearing enough creature and you mentioned wanting one.”
“It was very thoughtful.” She touched his cheek, just a light brush of her fingers.
“Or a calculated bribe, to keep me in your good graces perhaps.” The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.
With the same athletic ease he’d used to place her there, Nicholas lifted her from his lap. Gallantly he offered her his handkerchief to wipe away the residue on her thighs, refastened his breeches, and then rapped three times on the roof of the carriage. In a neutral tone, he said, “I told your driver to drop me off several blocks from your town house. I’ll find a hack to take me back to the ball. No one will ever know we were together.”
Except
she
would know, she thought in pragmatic despair.
And she’d better face the reality that Lord Manderville could be horribly wrong. When Nicholas had arrived earlier, he’d had a lovely older woman on his arm, their family resemblance so strong she knew even before they were announced, they were mother and son. The arrival of the dowager duchess had shaken Caroline’s nerve to proceed with Derek’s plan. Melinda Cassat was always a font of gossip and it hadn’t taken much prodding to get her friend to reveal the details of the lineage in the Manning family. With Nicholas an only son, the next in line was a distant cousin residing at this time in the colonies. It was important to his family for him to have an heir, and according to Melinda, the closer he got to thirty, the more the hopeful mamas and eager young debutantes became he might make a dynastic marriage.
A barren widow was probably not at all what the elegant duchess had in mind for her handsome, extremely eligible son.
Caroline finished adjusting her clothing and nodded, unable to speak.
If
she could ever get him to consider marriage in the first place. The gamble was for high stakes and at long odds. But when they rolled to a halt and he kissed her a lingering farewell before he clambered out of the carriage, she decided since her first venture with the Devilish Duke had turned out so well, this was also worth a try.
Chapter Twenty-one
T
he name on the card made her feel very real surprise. Annabel frowned, not sure how to interpret the unexpected visit from a woman she barely knew, but nodded, for she could think of no reason on earth to not see Lady Wynn.
On the other hand, she could think of no reason the young widow would call either.
She told the footman who’d brought her the card, “Please show her into the drawing room. I’ll be right there.”
Thomas was out on some errand and Margaret had gone to the milliner’s, so it fell to her to play hostess. She set aside the book she’d been reading and rose, hoping her muslin skirt wasn’t too wrinkled because she’d been sitting there for hours, immersed in a novel in which someone else’s woes made her forget her own.
A few moments later she entered the formal room, seeing her guest had taken a seat on one of the chairs covered in pale green silk, the shade a foil for her vibrant coloring. Delicately beautiful in a cream-colored day gown embroidered with tiny blue flowers, her lustrous hair caught up in a simple, heavy chignon, Lady Wynn regarded her with those signature long-lashed gray eyes, her cool demeanor typical. “Good afternoon, Miss Reid.”
“Good afternoon, my lady.”
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“Of course. How pleasant of you to drop by.”
If Annabel could recall, they’d been introduced once, but often crossed paths at social events. However, their acquaintance barely qualified in the nodding category and Annabel was mystified over the reason for Lady Wynn’s visit.
“I didn’t precisely drop by. I came to see you with a specific purpose. I hope you will not find it objectionable.”
This was becoming more intriguing by the moment. Annabel sat down opposite her unexpected guest, self-consciously smoothing her rumpled skirt. Only a few years older than she, still Caroline Wynn exuded a sort of smooth, detached composure that made Annabel feel like a schoolgirl. She couldn’t help but ask, “Objectionable?”
“I would appreciate if what we are about to discuss would remain between us.”
That
was an interesting statement.
“If you wish to share something in confidence, I will honor your request.” Annabel spoke slowly, with no attempt to hide her surprise. “Though, I admit, I am puzzled. We are not strangers but barely more than that.”
What could be described only as a wistful smile curved her visitor’s mouth. “No one can have too many friends, and I find I have too few at times. Who can tell? Maybe we will surprise each other. I think we have quite a lot in common, after all.”
“We do? How so?”
“Well, for one, we are not far apart in age. Also, both of us are virtually alone in the world in some ways. You due to the death of your parents, and myself since my father ignores my existence. Let’s not forget, I married a man I did not love and you are, by all accounts, about to do the same thing.”
Put that way, it sounded awful. Annabel felt her reaction to such blunt observation in the way her spine stiffened and her mouth grew tight. “How on earth can you know how I feel about Lord Hyatt?”
Caroline Wynn looked unfazed at the acid in her tone. “I don’t. That’s why I came here to talk to you.”
To say Annabel was confused was an understatement. “With apology, my lady, I cannot see why you’d be concerned.”
An auburn brow inched upward. “I was in a terrible marriage. I really wouldn’t wish the state on anyone.”