Desperately Seeking Suzanna (3 page)

Her eyes raked the room in search of water as she tried to stifle a cough. Finding a bowl of candies on the table beside the massive poster bed, she popped one in her mouth and sat on the edge of the bed. As the flavor of strawberries filled her mouth, the warmth of the liquor began to seep through her limbs. She ran her hand across the emerald-colored bedding. Holden’s bed was quite soft. She slipped another piece of candy into her mouth and lay back on the bed. He seemed the type to take an hour tying a cravat, so she might as well enjoy her wait in comfort.

“I’ve never been to France,” she called out, so he might hear her from behind the screen across the room. “It seems like a lovely place. I’ve certainly seen enough of their fashion plates to last a lifetime, and I’ve heard they have fine food as well. I imagine sweet shops on every corner…chocolatiers lining the streets.” She waved a hand above her head at an invisible Parisian road. “Please don’t tell me I’m wrong or I’ll be terribly disappointed.”

There was movement at the edge of her vision. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” His voice was close, too close.

Her head whipped to the side at the same moment she tried to sit up from his bed, landing her propped on one elbow in a sprawled position across the thick quilts. And there he was, shirtless at the foot of the bed.

Lean muscles wound around long limbs in the most dazzling arrangement. Never had she seen such a sight or even imagined this was what lay hidden under all those shirts and coats in town. His waist narrowed where a trail of blond hair disappeared into the waistband of black breeches slung low on his hips. She blinked at him, not sure what to say in this situation. “I…I thought you were putting yourself to rights.”

“I am. I keep my shirts in the wardrobe.” He made a halfhearted gesture toward a piece of furniture in the corner. “I thought you were admiring my furnishings.”

“I am. You are…I mean you
have
a beautiful…ceiling…above your bed.” She pulled her gaze away from him, training her eyes straight above her head. She swallowed and shifted the candy in her mouth with her tongue. The heat of a deep pink blush crept up her neck as she continued with a thick voice, “I was just admiring…”

“My candies?”

She took a breath to think. The candy from the dish. He must have seen her take the sweets. “Well, yes. I see candies set out and I feel it’s my responsibility to try one. What if they’re horrid candies? Positively inedible? I wouldn’t want to inflict that upon you.” Her head turned back toward him, her gaze instantly falling to his bare chest.

“Thank you for your service. Do you find it horrid?”

“No. It’s fascinating. I’ve never seen anything so…”

“The candy?”

“What?” She ripped her gaze from his chest up across strong shoulders to rest on his face. His face. The only mark on it was a small dark line beneath one eye. At least she hadn’t done permanent damage to such a beautiful specimen of mankind. She watched as his lips, set in a strong jaw, turned up, revealing a bright smile. Was she supposed to be talking? Who could keep track when he was standing there looking like a half-clad god tossed from the heavens for bad behavior?

“We’re discussing the candy.”

“Oh, yes. I mean, no, they’re quite nice actually. Would you like one?”

“Perhaps in a moment.” His eyes slid over her as amusement warred with curiosity in his gaze. “Suzanna, who are you?”

She tensed for a fraction of a second before her lips curved into what she imagined to be a sensual smile. “Don’t you think it a bit unsporting to ask a masked lady her identity?”

“I suppose it is.” He leaned one hand on the post at the foot of the bed as he watched her with a wry grin. “How about a game of sport, then?”

“What kind of game?” Her eyes narrowed beneath her mask. This could be more dangerous still. What had she gotten herself into? But then, this situation would never happen again. Without a mask and her family’s influence, he would never look her way. Evenings like this didn’t exist in her life. Some small voice inside her was screaming to run—a voice she steadily ignored.

“I get to ask two questions of you, and you can ask the same of me.” He eyed her with a casual, inconsequential look in his eye that she was sure couldn’t be further from the truth.

At her pause, he added, “My nose is already bent out of shape so don’t further wound me, Suzanna.”

“I can ask you anything?”

“Certainly.”

“I accept your challenge.” She smiled. How dangerous could questions be anyway? And she could find out more about him in the process. “Are you wed to anyone?”

“Never. Your question is too simple, Suzanna. Now it’s my turn.” He rounded the corner of the bed and sat on the corner facing her. “I’ve never seen you here before. Who did you come with to this ball?”

“The Fairlyns, your new neighbors. You, too, ask a question that’s too simple, and now you only have one left.”

“Ah, that was shameful, wasn’t it?” He leaned back to lie across the bed beside her, his hands laced behind his head.

“Terribly so. This is your game after all.” She chuckled as she looked across at him. “And now it’s my turn.” She put a hand to her mask to ensure it was still present.

There were plenty of questions she could ask him. She could ask his thoughts on her paintings, what he enjoyed most in life, or even his goals for where he wanted his life to go. Yet the only question that came to her lips was, “May I touch you?” Blast it all, had she said that aloud? She clamped her lips shut, afraid of what would come out next.

He said nothing but his eyes became alert as he looked at her. With slow motions, as if he was afraid he would frighten her, he rolled to his side and propped himself up on one forearm above her. She was shaking. This had been the worst and best idea she’d ever had. She released her arm from behind her head and fell to her back, the soft bed cradling her as she looked up into his heated green eyes. She had asked to touch him, yet her mouth seemed to be more brazen than her hands. She didn’t know what to say or do. The silence seemed to stretch between them.

“It
is
my game. And you asked so sweetly. Go on, then.”

When she waited another moment, he moved his hand across her stomach and lifted her hand, guiding it to his chest. His skin was warm. She stretched her fingers across his tense muscles, feeling them jump beneath her touch. His heart was beating at a rapid pace deep within his chest.

His hand fell away to land on her hip as she danced her fingers down to his stomach. He sat completely still except for the hand at her hip. Every time she moved her hand lower on his stomach, his grip tightened on her before loosening again. Until she did what she longed to do and ran the backs of her fingers across the hair where it disappeared into his breeches. His hand grasped for more of her side as he let out a choked breath.

Had she done something wrong?

She looked up into his face to see his eyes had grown dark. His lips were close. What would he taste like? What would his lips feel like against hers? Neither one of them dared to move for a second. Should she say something? Her mind raced for a subject; however, the only thing on her mind was Holden. His lips just beyond her reach. The warmth of his body close to hers. His hand resting low on her hip.

“I suppose it’s my turn.”

“Yes.”

His mouth descended on hers in a gentle kiss—the kind she’d dreamed about. Soft and seeking, yet not overpowering. But as he pulled back a fraction she felt a sense of loss, even disappointment. Was this all there was between ladies and gentlemen? What was the fuss about? Then he shifted closer. His lips covered hers once more, but this time was different. This time he seemed to be demanding a response from her.

Her hand slipped around his side to his back, pulling him closer still. She was distracted for a moment by the hardness now pressed into her thigh, but was pulled back into the kiss as his tongue slipped past her teeth to tangle with her tongue. The taste of strawberries that still filled her mouth melted with the warm male spice of him to create a delicious concoction that she could not get enough of. She mimicked his actions and tasted him. A guttural, almost animal-like sound came from deep in his throat as he moved over her.

He thrust one muscular thigh between hers, causing her to whimper and grasp at his back. The kiss deepened between them still. His hand came up to cup her breast, and she arched into his grasp. She wanted more. She didn’t care if she appeared to be a wanton trollop. This was most likely her only chance to experience passion, and she didn’t want it to end. He bit at her bottom lip in teasing motions before letting his mouth slide across her jaw to her neck. He trailed kisses down to her collarbone, pausing to capture her raging pulse between his lips.

She buried her hand in the soft blond hair on the back of his head to hold him close.
Don’t leave
, she thought, not sure if she said it out loud or only in her mind. But his head only dipped as low as her breast, which had become bared at some point. When had he pulled down her dress? The thought disappeared as he traced his tongue around the tight, pink center of her breast. Catching it with his teeth, he drew a gasp from her mouth.

He looked up at her and smiled a devilish grin. He knew precisely what he was about. How many times had he done this? It was without a doubt a high number, for he understood precisely where to touch her, when, and how. With torturous slow motions, his mouth traveled back up her neck. It wasn’t until she felt his fingers trace a line up the inside of her leg that she realized he’d pulled her gown up as he moved over her. She should be running from him, but instead she found her leg falling open to grant him more access to her skin as her eyes locked with his deep green gaze.

He kissed her again with increased urgency, claiming her mouth as conquered territory. She was so focused on the feel of his lips as they slashed across hers and the soft curl of his hair as she wound her fingers around the back of his head that she jumped at the nudge of his fingers as they grazed over her private parts. She shouldn’t allow him to, but how could she not? The backs of his fingers rubbed gently at the apex of her thighs, soothing her reaction and heating her blood. With every graze of his fingertips she fought the urge to squirm under his attention.

His hand shouldn’t be
there
, and yet she wanted his touch
there
more than ever now. She didn’t understand what he was doing to her, but she also didn’t care. A need for him, more of him, dimmed all thought from her mind. She flattened her hand across his shoulder blades in an effort to pull him closer and fulfill this desire she couldn’t explain. But it wasn’t contact with his skin her body screamed for; it was contact with his devilish hand.

He drew small circles with his knuckles that made her cry out in a muffled yell captured by his mouth. She arched her hips into his touch as he slipped a finger into her damp heat. It felt as if he were pulling her apart with every twitch, every flick of his fingers. Something was building within her. She didn’t know where it led, only that she wanted it more than air. He broke their kiss to look down into her face with an all-too-innocent grin. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No!” The word was wrenched from her throat on a scratchy yell. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

By the satisfied grin on his face, she knew that was the answer he’d planned on hearing. He was playing her like an instrument he’d practiced all his life, and she didn’t care. He thrust his fingers into her again. “You’re so beautiful, Suzanna.”

The room tipped sideways as she lost the last of her control over her body. The tightness and urgency within her released in a sudden crescendo and turned her into a shaking mass in Holden’s arms.

“Beautiful, simply beautiful.” He kissed her forehead as he pulled his hand away from her with one last caress.

She swiped her fingers across the beads of sweat gathered on his brow. No one had ever told her she was beautiful, until now. This man, this gorgeous man, was interested in her. He thought she was beautiful. In that instant she knew she would do anything he asked of her.

Slipping her hands down his stomach, she pulled at the waist of his breeches. One golden brow shot upward as he quickly unbuttoned the placket to assist her. When the hard length of him sprang free, she blinked. She wanted to show him the same pleasure he’d shown her. But how? She touched his smooth skin with a tentative slide of her fingers. He allowed only a moment of this before he pulled her hand away and moved over her, poised between her legs. She could almost feel the brush of him against her. Yes. He could have her. She was beautiful and his.

“Devil take it! Damned bloody nose!” He snarled as he crawled off her, pulled up his breeches, and stalked across the room uttering a string of profanities—with one hand covering his face. She wiped away the single droplet of blood he’d left on her bare shoulder. All she could do was watch him go as she sat up and tugged her gown back down over her knees—alone and beautiful.

***

The sore nose and blackened eye had been worth it. He’d put himself to rights and retrieved the mask he’d gone in search of in the first place, while Suzanna repaired her hair and shook the wrinkles from her dress. Her burnished gold hair had been twisted into an elaborate knot on the top of her head and pinned with feathers when he’d first spied her on the stairs. Now wisps of hair fell around her masked face, reminding him of how she’d looked sprawled across his bed.

Holden smiled down into Suzanna’s upturned face as he spun her around the dance floor. She fit perfectly in his arms, even if she did have to take an extra step every now and then to keep up with his long stride as they danced. She was small in stature, yet her body was lush with all the right curves. The way she kissed him with those full red lips and encouraged his attention had been his undoing. He shouldn’t have let things go so far, but what sane man would have stopped with a willing masked lady in his bed?

They hadn’t been able to complete what they started tonight, but he was sure there would be time for that later. She wasn’t going anywhere. His hand slid lower on her back, pulling her past what would have been the point of decency if they’d been waltzing in any typical London ballroom. But they were in the country and wore masks, which somehow made it acceptable behavior.