Dare To Love (16 page)

Gwendolyn tightly held onto Devin’s elbow as
she continued to walk through the grassy field towards the manor.
“And your sister? I assume you approve of their impending
nuptials?”

Devin halted and grabbed Gwendolyn by the
shoulders. He circled his eyes around her face before saying, “My
sister loves Thomas with all her heart. Any other woman who would
have to wait until her intended divorced his first wife would have
scampered away. But not my Katrina, she is smart, she is
determined, and she is also grateful for what she has.”

His statement only added to Gwendolyn’s
persistent confusion. “I genuinely hope so.”

Devin’s hands still remained on her shoulders
and his thumbs carefully grazed her soft skin that was exposed. He
was going to kiss her, she thought frantically, feeling herself
drowning in pools of aquamarine. Must… scurry…away! Gwendolyn broke
free from his confine only to be grabbed back by her waist and
brought straight into his chest, feeling the length of him, his
heat, his ardor rapidly seizing all her principles.

Devin had never felt desire so strong before
and yet, kissing her seemed terribly wrong, but his physical mind
set was hard to ignore and he leaned forward to tempt her with his
lips but Gwendolyn refused to greet his desire but rather stood
there immobile waiting for him to do something or at least act
contrite. “You know I want to kiss you.”

Gwendolyn noted how quickly her body reacted
to his magnetism. “Yes.”

He circled his eyes about her face again and
said, “You know I have never been envious of him.”

“Him?” She asked knowing exactly who he
meant.

“I’ve admired him,” he admitted, “But never
envied…until now.”

Gwendolyn swallowed hard, and watched with
spherical eyes as he attempted to lean in to kiss her again but
held back.

Instead of releasing her however, he
expressed softly, “God, you are beautiful.”

Gwendolyn accepted the flattering remark and
smiled, “I like you Devin,” she expressed delicately, placing her
palm in the center of his chest. “I like you enough to keep you in
the highest regard after this moment.”

Devin stiffened up from her touch. “Yes,” he
agreed, stepping back away from her. “Yes, indeed,” he said taking
in a deep breath before letting go a huge sigh.

“We can,” Gwendolyn said, stepping towards
him and placing her hand back on his forearm. “Be acquainted as
friends.”

Devin perked up, “As special friends?”

Gwendolyn rolled her eyes; he just would not
give up! “As silly friends,” she added, trying to detour the sexual
tension.

“As humorous friends?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed, glad that he finally
got the point.

“Yes,” Devin agreed, patting her hand then
guiding them forward. “Joking friends,” he continued to play.

“Ridiculous friends,” Gwendolyn said next,
practically skipping through the grass.

He allowed her to skip away before saying,
“By the by,” he coughed again feeling foolish to a degree, “Thomas
was bombarded with questions about you a few moments ago and
mentioned to all the guests that you were his cousin, so you may
come out of hiding my dear and dance with me.”

“A persistent and determined friend,” she
tsked at him.

“That was my intention, I do assure you,”
Devin quipped, back to his same brazen self.

Gwendolyn giggled and did a double-take when
they arrived at a familiar setting; a sizeable conservatory full of
vegetation from all over the world. Orange, lemon and apple trees,
king palms, bamboo, tropical ferns, orchids, tulips and roses all
in full bloom.

“Have you seen the greenhouse?” Devin asked,
watching Gwendolyn light up like a firefly.

Her mouth flew open wide, “Oh, I used to love
to come here when I was a child!” She exclaimed, letting go of his
arm and running towards the dwelling around like a toddler.

Inside, Devin laughed aloud at the sight of
Gwendolyn roaming from foliage to flower. She looked like a little
girl discovering plant life for the very first time. Picking
leaves, smelling flowers, touching and caressing, he relayed, “I
must say Gwendolyn; you do make a charming addition to all this
glamour.”

Gwendolyn blushed and smiled appropriately at
him. “Why Devin Hale, you are absolutely dreadful.”

“I do try.”

Gwendolyn shook her head, “You are a wicked
man.”

“And an absent one I might add.”

Gwendolyn’s smiled dropped at the sight of
Thomas filling the entrance. He was not amused and stared straight
at his friend.

“Lose something Thomas?”

Thomas shook his head at his friend’s mockery
as he made his way in. “There are several ladies in the ballroom
dying to dance with you. It seems you have spread yourself around
this evening dear friend and need to fulfill your many pledges,
just holding you to your dance card your wickedness.”

Devin bowed in defeat, “Quite right dear
friend, but before I leave, Gwendolyn has also pledged a waltz with
me, will I see you later inside?”

Gwendolyn blushed and realized he was baiting
her, “I wouldn’t miss it,” she played along watching him exit.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

Thomas watched Devin amble away before
setting eyes on Gwendolyn. Lowering his gaze, he surveyed her
attire downside up.

Gwendolyn’s heart tripped over several times
from Thomas’ close scrutiny of her appearance. Why does he keep
affecting her body that way? Hands down, he was the most handsome
man she had ever seen. Black was definitely his color, his cutaway
perfectly designed for his magnificent mold, he made Devin and
Henry look absolutely common.

“Forget something?”

Gwendolyn noted his frivolity, his hands
across his chest and the questionable look in his eyes gave him
away. “Yes, and it seems you are just the person to refresh my
memory.”

“What about your fiancé? Or should I ask, is
there a fiancé?

Gwendolyn twisted her lips. “How dare you
question my sincerity, Thomas? Charles is not imaginary by any
means!”

“Charles?”

“Yes, Charles…His family owns a rather large
dairy farm in Kettlewell,” she stated proudly lifting her chin up
in the air.

Thomas walked over to a nearby Philodendron
growing out of control. He reached out and touched the plant. “I
wish to meet this farmer of yours.”

“Why?”

“I want to know what his intentions are,” he
stated quickly, continuing to ravage the fern.

“I told you what his intendment was you silly
nincompoop,” Gwendolyn reacted irrationally. “He wants to marry
me!”

Thomas quickly met her unreason. As if
Gwendolyn just poured a bucket of hot water over his head,
deep-rooted history began to bubble. She was the only one who could
uplift embedded passions and Thomas was swiftly disconcerted. “What
makes you believe I didn’t want to marry you?”

Gwendolyn’s fury erupted as well. “You never
wanted to marry me Thomas—”

“How do you know that for certain?”

Gwendolyn was dumb-founded. How did she know
that for certain? Well, her memories back-peddled fast…their
fathers disagreeable pact… err, Thomas arguing with his father…err,
Thomas looking nervous as hell in front of the monsignor…their
consummation…doesn’t he object as well? “You hated the idea of our
joining, and, as I recall, you yelled at your father and told him
how you despised him for forcing you into the arrangement.”

“Key word here is forcing, go on.” Thomas ran
his fingers through his hair in frustration. He let loose strands
that were neatly combed behind his ears.

Gwendolyn focused on the hair that seemed to
dangle on the sides of his face. The swinging lock seemed to
hypnotize her as she forced herself to glare away. “You…you,
practically stomped your feet in protest Thomas, please do not try
and deny that now.”

“Why you misguided wench,” he quipped,
surrounding her. “What you saw, or should I say, think you observed
was me ranting to my father balking in the way he enforced us to
take your hand.”

Gwendolyn’s mouth flew open to attack. “Why
you arrogant swain! You cannot stand there and tell me honestly
that you had any desire to marry me!”

Thomas laughed sickly at her remark, “Desire?
Yes…let’s do talk about desire my dear wife.”

Gwendolyn could not believe he finally
acknowledged her rightful state. Oh, if Katrina were only there!
Then she could have heard her fiancé admit that Gwendolyn was the
true Duchess of Norwin and not she. Gwendolyn watched Thomas pace
in front of her with his hands on his hips; he hastily kicked up
dirt and yanked off that stem he was admiring before.

Thomas took another good look at the girl who
always managed to turn his world upside down. He wanted to divulge
all that he was feeling, but held back. As a timid, indecisive, shy
young lad, he desperately desired Gwendolyn. Following her around,
watching her intently as she innocently arched her back in front of
him. Naively undressing in front of him before their summer swims,
imagining himself pressing his lips against hers, on the crux of
her neck, setting his mouth on her breasts and taking her for
hours. He would go home each night to soak himself in a cold
bath—he desired her so much! Does he confess that little tidbit?
Would it even matter…would it change anything? He had been dreaming
of her relentlessly since her advent, imagining his tongue dancing
with hers, across her much healthier bosom and damned-if-he
knew-why, was haunted nightly by the illusion of her naked body
across his empty bed! Does he allow her to know that? NO! He
thought tentatively—he must move forward, carry on with his stupid
plan. “Are you happy Gwendolyn?” He asked instead.

Gwendolyn was prepared for her retaliation
but was blown away by his sudden change in direction. “Happy?”

“With him? Does your farmer make you
happy?”

Gwendolyn’s stomach churned. She thought hard
and said, “Yes… yes, he does. Does your debutante make you
happy?”

Thomas stared at her for a long moment before
saying, “Yes.”

It was no use. They had truly grown apart; no
longer the children with the same interests, the similar views and
bound future and Gwendolyn winced from the further cuts he managed
to carve and began to walk away. She nearly tripped over a potted
Bird of Paradise that—out of the blue—grew in her path as she
continued to walk backwards. Thomas sprung forward and held her
tightly confined. Only then did Gwendolyn realize that her back was
against a statue, solid and cornered.

“What is it going to take to have you back in
my arms?” Thomas murmured into her ear only to languidly pull
away.

Gwendolyn was staggered looking up at him.
She couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t even think—and felt instantly
drunk from his sudden burst of particulars. Did he really say what
she thought she just heard? “Don’t tease me Thomas.”

“I am not one to pretend, Gwendolyn, and as
your husband I still hold liberties to procure advance of my
wife.”

Yes…oh yes…she wanted that too! Advance on
him. Assault him was more like it. Wanting to yank off his cravat
and kiss his throat, chest, down to his…Oh God! His embrace was
enfolding, her bosoms melted into his chest, her nipples hardened
from his unguarded charge. “What exactly do you want?” She asked in
breathless anticipation.

“To kiss you,” he stated with a hint of
indecency, “Just once…one last time.”

Gwendolyn felt her face being cradled as
Thomas leaned in to kiss her; lips so silky soft…gentle, temperate,
parallel to a kiss felt long ago. Misleading that kiss, his talent
turning famished, as his slow, careful taste of her grew ravenous
in greed. Thomas besieged her backside with his arms, reached up to
her neck to keep her position under his control. Opening up her
mouth with his tongue, the compulsion fed and exploded every ardent
sensation she subdued and she met his coercion with much of her
own. Meeting his silky dance, thrust for plunge, taking, giving,
receiving and flinging her wanton body towards his. Through her
dress she could feel the heat seeping through his waistcoat and
shirt. His body against hers was rewarding and yet, the length of
him fully pressed into hers was not fulfilling enough.

Arms nearly crushing her, lips behind her
ear, down alongside her neck, his hands roved to the front of her
bodice, fondling her breast, kneading, wheedling her flesh to his
eager mouth. Drawing her hips to his loins, he enclosed the space
between them, expertly placing his leg amid hers, spreading her
bearings until she practically rode him in rapture. It happened too
quickly, much too fast, he was hot, hot, and hot; it was not
enough, merely a tease. His body could not take it anymore; his
appetite for her was unyielding. He was not prepared for so much
passion to erupt—he knew from past experience that he couldn’t fake
what her body made his feel. His hands roamed freely underneath the
many layers of her dress, alongside the smooth texture of her
thighs, in between her legs, sensually rubbing himself on a
pressure point until he heard her moan in his mouth…