JMcNaught - Something Wonderful (54 page)

With the lithe agility of an athlete, he bounded onto the tree trunk and began walking toward her, moving out along the branch until she was within arm's reach. "Alexandra," he said, speaking in a calm, reassuring voice, "if I come any closer, my weight may break this branch or bend it enough to throw you into the water."

He edged another few inches closer to her and bent at the waist, extending his hand toward her. "Don't be afraid. Just reach out and clasp my hand."

For once she didn't argue, Jordan noted with relief. Instead she reached up with her left hand and tightly grasped the limb above her head for balance, then she extended her right hand to his, catching his wrist in a strong grasp, at the same time Jordan's fingers closed tightly around her wrist. "Now get your legs beneath you and stand up. Use my wrist for leverage."

"I'd rather not," she replied. His amazed gaze narrowed sharply on her laughing face, while she tightened her grasp on his wrist and threateningly said, "I'd rather swim, wouldn't you?"

"Don't try it," Jordan warned darkly, unable to free his wrist. In his awkward position, bent at the waist and his arm imprisoned, he was completely at the mercy of her whim and they both knew it.

"If you can't swim, I'll rescue you," she sweetly volunteered.

"Alexandra," he threatened in a soft, ominous tone, "if you toss me into that freezing water, you'd better swim for your life in the opposite direction."

He meant it and she knew it. "Yes, my lord," she meekly replied and obediently released his wrist.

Jordan straightened slowly and stood looking down at her with an expression of exasperation and amusement. "You are the most outrageous—" He broke off, unable to control his grin.

"Thank you," she replied brightly. "Predictability is so very dull, don't you agree?" she called after him as he turned and walked along the branch, then jumped down to the grass.

"How would I know?" he replied with grim amusement as he stretched out on the grassy bank and picked up his pole. "I haven't had a predictable hour since I set eyes on you."

The next three hours passed as if they were but a few minutes, and by the end of it, Jordan had confirmed she was not only an excellent fisherman, but a thoroughly delightful, witty, and intelligent companion as well.

"Look!" she called suddenly and unnecessarily as Jordan's pole bent nearly in half, almost jerking him to his feet as he fought to hold it. "You have a bite—!"

After five minutes of the most deft maneuvering and skillful fighting on Jordan's part, his line abruptly went slack. His disrespectful young wife, standing upon her tree limb, from whence she had observed his unsuccessful struggle for supremacy while calling out advice and encouragement, groaned and threw up her hands in disgust. "You lost the fish!"

"That was not a fish," Jordan retorted, looking up at her. "That was a whale with large teeth."

"Only because it got away," she retorted, laughing.

Her laughter was as infectious as her enthusiasm, and Jordan couldn't stop himself from grinning even though he tried to sound stern. "Kindly stop belittling my whale and let's open those baskets. I'm starved."

Standing back, he watched in admiration as she scampered down from the fallen limb. When she tried to hand him her pole and climb down herself, he caught her by the waist and lowered her to the ground, but she stiffened when her body brushed against his, and he abruptly let her go.

The pleasure he had taken in their morning faded somewhat at her reaction to his touch. Sitting down across from her on the blanket, he leaned his back against a tree and studied her in impassive silence, watching her unpack the baskets of food while he tried to guess her motive for instigating this outing. Obviously, she'd not wanted it to be a "romantic interlude."

"It's been a lovely morning," Alexandra said, pausing to watch the sunlight dance on the water's surface in front of them.

Drawing one knee up against his chest, Jordan draped his arm across it and said flatly, "Now that we've finished, suppose you tell me what this is all about."

Alexandra tore her gaze from the water and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why did you want to spend the morning like this?"

She'd expected him to wonder, she had
not
expected him to flatly demand an answer, and she wasn't at all prepared with one. With a shrug, she said uneasily, "I thought I'd show you the sort of life I truly like to lead."

Cynicism twisted his lips. "And now that you've shown me that you're not completely the refined, elegant young woman you've appeared to be, I'm supposed to develop a disgust for you and let you go back to Morsham, is that it?"

That was so far from the truth that Alexandra burst out laughing. "I'd never have conceived such a convoluted plan in a hundred years," she said, looking nonetheless impressed at the ingenuity of it. "I'm afraid I'm not quite that inventive." For a split second, Alexandra could have sworn she saw relief flicker in his hooded grey eyes, and she was suddenly determined to recover the companionable, easy mood they'd enjoyed while fishing together. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I'm not certain."

"Have I ever done anything to make you think I'm devious?"

"Your sex is not noted for being either forthright or frank," he replied dryly.

"The fault for that must be laid at the door of men," she teased, flopping down on her back and resting her head on her arm as she stared up at the fluffy white clouds drifting across the powder-blue sky. "Men couldn't endure it if we were forthright and frank."

"Is that right?" he retorted, stretching out beside her, propped up on his elbow.

Nodding, she turned her head and looked at him. "If women were forthright and blunt, we wouldn't have been able to convince men that they are smarter, wiser, and braver than we are, when in truth you are superior to us only in the brute strength occasionally required to lift extremely heavy objects."

"Alexandra," he whispered, as his lips slowly descended to hers, "beware of shattering a man's ego. It forces him to show his supremacy in the time-honored way."

The huskiness of his voice, combined with the seductive languor in his grey eyes, was already making Alexandra's heart hammer. Longing to put her arms around his broad shoulders and bring him down to her, she asked shakily, "Have I shattered your ego?"

"Yes."

"Be-because I said women are smarter, wiser, and braver than men?"

"No," he whispered, his smiling lips almost touching hers now, "because you caught a bigger
fish
than I did."

Her startled giggle was abruptly smothered by his lips.

Feeling utterly languid and thoroughly content, Jordan decided to forestall their lovemaking for a few minutes, and after allowing himself a long, hungry kiss, he lay back beside her.

She looked a little surprised and a little disappointed that he hadn't continued.

"Later," he promised with a lazy grin that made her blush and smile and then hastily avert her gaze. After a minute she seemed to become fascinated with something in the sky.

"What are you looking at?" Jordan demanded finally, watching her.

"A dragon." When he looked bewildered she lifted her arm and pointed to the sky in the southeast. "Right there—that cloud—what do
you
see when you look at it?"

"A fat cloud."

Alexandra rolled her eyes at him. "What
else
do you see?"

He was quiet for a moment studying the sky. "Five more fat clouds and three thin ones." To Jordan's surprised pleasure, she burst out laughing, rolled onto her side, and kissed him full on the mouth, but when he tried to hold her tighter and begin to make love to her, Alexandra drew back and insisted on resuming her study of the sky.

"Have you no imagination at all?" she chided softly. "Look at those clouds—surely you must see
one
that reminds you of something. It can be something whimsical or real."

Goaded by her insinuation that he possessed no imagination, Jordan narrowed his eyes and stared hard—and then he finally discerned a shape he recognized. Off in the sky, on the right, there was a cloud that looked remarkably like, exactly like—breasts! No sooner did he recognize the shape than Alexandra excitedly asked, "What do you see?" and Jordan's whole body shook with silent laughter.

"I'm thinking," he said quickly. In his haste to come up with some acceptable shape to tell her, he suddenly found one. "A swan," he said, and then almost in awe, "I see a swan."

The study of cloud formations, Jordan soon realized, was an unexpectedly pleasurable pastime—particularly with Alexandra's hand clasped in his, and her body pressed against his side. A few minutes later, however, the combined distraction of her nearness and the scent of her delicate perfume became too potent to ignore. Leaning upon his forearm, Jordan braced his other arm on the opposite side of her, then he slowly lowered his mouth to hers. Her response to his first kiss was so warm and eager that Jordan felt as if his heart was melting. Pulling his lips from hers, he gazed down at her lovely face, feeling humbled by her gentleness and warmth. "Have I ever told you," he whispered solemnly, "how sweet I think you are?"

Before she could answer, he kissed her with all the hungry urgency he felt.

It was midafternoon when they rode back to the stables. Unaware of the surreptitious glances of Smarth and the two dozen stablekeeps and grooms, who were all avidly curious about the outcome of the morning's jaunt, Alexandra put her hands on Jordan's broad shoulders, smiling into his eyes as he reached up to lift her down from her sidesaddle.

"Thank you for a lovely day," she said as he slowly lowered her to the ground.

"You're welcome," he replied, his hands lingering unnecessarily at her waist, keeping her body only inches from his.

"Would you like to do it again?" she offered, thinking of their fishing.

Jordan's chuckle was rich and deep. "Again," he promised huskily, thinking of their lovemaking. "And again… and again…"

Alexandra's smooth cheeks turned as pink as roses, but an answering sparkle lit her eyes. "I meant would you like to go
fishing
again?"

"Will you let me catch the biggest fish next time?"

"Certainly not," she said, her face glowing with merriment, "but I suppose I'd be willing to vouch for you if you want to tell everyone about the whale
you
caught that got away."

Jordan threw back his head and shouted with laughter.

The sound of his mirth echoed through the stables where Smarth was standing at a window beside one of the grooms, watching the duke and his young duchess. "Told ye she could do it!" Smarth said, nudging the groom and winking. "Told ye she'd make him happier 'n he's ever been afore!" Humming cheerfully, he picked up a brush and began to groom a chestnut stallion.

John Coachman paused in the act of polishing the silver-trimmed harness to study the pair of lovers, then he bent his head to his task again, but now he began to whistle a happy little melody between his teeth.

A stablekeep laid down his pitchfork and watched the duke and duchess, then he, too, began to whistle as he reached for another bundle of hay.

Putting his hand beneath Alexandra's elbow, Jordan started to escort her back to the house, then he stopped abruptly and turned as the stableyard seemed to fill with tuneless, discordant melodies being hummed and whistled by servants going about their tasks with jaunty vigor.

"Is something wrong?" Alexandra asked, following his glance.

A slight, puzzled frown creased his forehead, then he shrugged, unable to discern exactly what had caught his attention. "No," he said, guiding her back to the house. "But I've lazed away most of the day, and I'll have to work twice as hard today and tomorrow to make up for it."

Disappointed, but still determined, Alexandra said brightly, "In that case, I won't try to corrupt you with amusing distractions—until the day after that."

"What sort of distraction do you have in mind?" Jordan asked, grinning.

"A picnic."

"I suppose I could find time for that."

"Sit down, Fawkes, I'll be with you in a few minutes," Jordan said later that afternoon without bothering to look up from the letter he was reading from his London business agent.

Undaunted by his client's discourtesy—which he correctly attributed to the duke's understandable annoyance at needing his services—the investigator, who was masquerading as an assistant bailiff while at Hawthorne, sat down across from Jordan's massive desk.

Several minutes later, the duke tossed down his quill, leaned back in his chair, and abruptly demanded, "Well, what is it?"

"Your grace," Fawkes began briskly, "when you gave me Lord Anthony's note last evening, did you not tell me that you'd instructed your wife not to visit him?"

"I did."

"And you're certain she heard and understood your wishes?"

"Perfectly certain."

"You made them very clear?"