Not Quite A Gentleman

Eight

Today’s Modern Woman must master the art of kissing, especially the hello kiss and the good-bye kiss. The hello kiss because it sets the tone for her encounter, essential when it comes to enticing and enthralling a gentleman. And the good-bye kiss because she wants to leave him with something to think about-namely her.

A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore

After fashioning a basket of sorts by tying her bonnet strings together, Victoria set her shell in her makeshift carrier, then looped the ribbons over her arm like a reticule. No sooner had she done so than she spied another shell several feet away. She pounced on the treasure, exclaiming over the unusual find. “I’ve never seen shells such as these,” she said, scooping up several more.

“And we haven’t even reached the best location this beach offers,” Dr. Oliver said.

Victoria shaded her eyes with a sandy-fingered hand and looked up at him from her crouched position. “You cannot mean that there is a better place than this?”

“That is precisely what I mean. Would you like to see it?”

“Do ducks quack?”

He laughed. “As the owner of two ducks, I can attest that they do indeed quack. Often very early in the morning when you’re not particularly eager to hear it.” He extended his hand. “Come. I’ll show you a magical place, and you may fill up your bonnet on the way.”

Victoria slipped her hand into his and allowed him to help her to her feet. Their palms only touched for several seconds before he released her, but the impact reverberated through her. His hand was large and strong and warm. She’d detected the hard roughness of calluses on his palm, an intriguing texture she’d never felt before, as none of the gentlemen of her acquaintance would ever build an animal pen or ride without gloves.

With her bending down every few seconds to pick up another shell, their progress was slow, but even if she hadn’t been adding to her collection, she couldn’t have rushed. The sound of the waves crashing against the sand and cliffs offered a hypnotic background to the dramatic scenery. After absorbing the sound for several minutes, she said, “May I ask you something?”

“Yes, although based on your tone, it sounds like a topic that might incite an argument-a pity, as we’re doing so well thus far.”

“Not an argument, but the topic is… personal.”

“Ah. Well, ask away, and I shall endeavor to satisfy your curiosity.”

“You said earlier that after your last mission failed, you had a falling out with your father and brother and that it was best for all concerned you left here.”

He looked straight ahead and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Yes.” He turned and his gaze bore into hers. “I suppose you want to know what caused our estrangement.”

“I cannot deny I am curious, but what I actually wondered was if your return meant that the rift between you was now healed.” When he continued to simply look at her, she fell into her hated habit of babbling when unnerved. “I only wondered because I know how hurtful the severing of family ties can be. My mother was estranged from her sister and I witnessed firsthand how harmful the situation was to both of them before Mother died. I was merely hoping that your situation had been resolved.” Her words came out in a rush, and she had to physically press her lips together to stop the torrent.

A frown pulled down his brows, and he turned to once again stare straight ahead. “The rift is still there, although we’re all maneuvering carefully around it, as if it’s a pile of something we’ve mucked from the stalls and don’t wish to step in. I don’t know if the break can ever be completely healed. Trust, once broken, is difficult to repair. And words, once spoken, cannot be unheard.”

“True, but there is great power in forgiveness, for both those who extend it and those who receive it.”

“Then I shall hope that someday my brother and father can forgive me.”

Forgive you for what, she wanted to ask, but managed to hold her tongue, hoping he would volunteer the information. Nearly a minute of silence passed before he said, “The failure of that mission rests on my shoulders. Colin and Gordon were both shot and easily could have died. The jewels disappeared. It was believed that I betrayed the mission in order to secure the jewels for myself.”

“Who believed that?”

“Everyone who mattered.” The words sounded flat, bitter. “Nothing was proved against me, but the rumors were damaging enough.”

“Did you do it?”

He turned to face her, and she found herself pinned by his intense scrutiny. “Do you think I did?”

“I hardly know you well enough to say.”

“And I hardly know you well enough to admit to committing a crime.”

Victoria nodded slowly, noting that he didn’t proclaim his innocence. “So the note from my father provides information about these jewels. Information that could either reunite you with your supposed ill-gotten gains-which I’m guessing are worth a great deal…?”

“A king’s ransom,” he agreed.

“Or provide you with a way to clear your name-also worth a great deal.”

He raised a brow. “Or even better, perhaps a way to accomplish both tasks.”

“Since my father sent you this information, it seems clear he believes you innocent.”

“Does it? That’s a rather naive deduction, Lady Victoria. It is equally possible he has other reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Such as a plan to entrap me. Or perhaps to have the jewels recovered for his own financial or political gain.”

He clearly read the outrage that flooded heat into her face because before she could speak, he said, “I’m not making any accusations or even a suggestion. I’m merely pointing out that things are not always as they seem and that there is usually more than one reason or explanation for any set of circumstances.”

“That reeks of making excuses, which sounds like a convenient method for you to explain away any past indiscretions.”

Instead of looking offended, a devilish gleam sparkled in his eyes. “Surely something everyone is guilty of at one time or another. Even you, Lady Victoria.”

“I’ve done nothing for which I need to make excuses.”

“Never? A beautiful woman such as yourself? Come come, now. Surely at one soiree or another some impertinent rogue was smitten by your charms and convinced you to part with a kiss.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “Hmmm. Perhaps your suitors Lords Bransby or Dravenripple?”

“Branripple and Dravensby,” Victoria corrected in a cold voice at complete odds with the heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck. “And that is none of your business.”

“And surely afterward,” he continued, taking no note of her icy tone, “you blamed your behavior on any number of excuses rather than accepting the actual reason.”

“And what reason would that be?”

“That you found the gentleman as attractive as he found you. That you were as curious to know the taste and feel of his kiss as he was to know yours.”

Victoria often cursed her inability to think up a suitable reply until hours or days after the fact, and never more than she cursed it now. Chagrin burned her cheeks for she knew perfectly well that he referred to the passionate kiss they’d shared. And the fact that he so accurately pinpointed that she’d made excuses for her scandalous behavior only served to fluster her further. He paused to pick up a perfectly formed small conch shell which he then held up for her examination. “Shall we add this one to your collection?”

Grasping the opportunity to change the subject, she held out her bonnet and said, “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

“Something to remember me by,” he said, placing the treasure in her bonnet.

The last thing Victoria wanted was something to remind her of Dr. Oliver when her entire purpose in coming here was to erase him from her memory. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that. Instead, she looked at the soaring stone cliff rising before them and said, “We’re almost at the end of the beach. Are we nearing this magical place you mentioned?”

“We are. In fact, it is directly ahead of us.”

“The cliff?”

Instead of answering, he smiled and held out his hand. “Come. Let me show you the magic.”

Unable to resist the intriguing invitation, Victoria settled her hand against his. His long, strong fingers closed over hers, shooting a warm tingle up her arm. When they neared the jutting stone cliff a moment later, it looked as if he intended to walk right into the rough surface. Victoria tried to slow her pace, but he urged her onward. To her amazement, he led her into a cleverly hidden narrow crevice in the stone, so narrow they had to turn sideways to navigate it.

“Careful,” he said, moving slowly. “The rocks can be sharp in places.”

She followed his lead, stepping carefully on the hard-packed sand, avoiding brushing against the craggy black rock. The air in the narrow passage was still and cool, and the farther they walked, the dimmer the light became. The sound of the waves receded to a distant echo. The passageway widened enough to allow them to walk single file, but by then they were swallowed in complete darkness. He was no more than a foot in front of her, yet she couldn’t see him at all.

He must have felt her apprehension because he whispered, “Don’t be alarmed. We’re almost there.”

She sensed they turned a corner and was relieved to note what looked like a wan patch of light ahead. They rounded another corner, and Victoria suddenly found herself standing in a circular cavern approximately twelve feet in diameter. A swatch of pale light dimly illuminated the area, and she looked up. A small piece of blue sky was visible through an oblong opening in the stone far, far above her head.

“What is this place?” she asked, setting down her bonnet then turning in a slow circle.

“A favorite haunt of mine. I discovered it as a boy, quite by accident during one of my endless explorations. I dubbed it Crystal Cave.”

“Why Crystal Cave? I don’t see any crystals.”

“Only because a cloud is obviously obscuring the sun. Run your finger over the wall.”

An odd request, but Victoria skimmed a fingertip lightly over the rough surface. He clasped her hand and brought it to her lips.

“Taste,” he said softly.

An even odder request, but with her gaze locked on his, Victoria touched her tongue to her fingertip. “Salty,” she said.

He nodded. “This cavern fills with water at high tide-something I discovered the hard way and nearly didn’t live to tell the tale. But it is like this at low tide. When the sunlight hits the accumulated dry salt crystals…”

His voice faded as a shaft of bright sunlight illuminated the cave. Victoria gasped as the dark walls suddenly shimmered with sparkling light. “It’s like being surrounded by glittering diamonds,” she said, delighted and awed by the spectacle. She again rotated in a slow circle. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s… dazzling.”

“Yes. I’d almost forgotten just how dazzling.”

She stopped turning and looked at him, then stilled when she discovered his gaze resting upon her. Her heart jumped in that ridiculous manner it seemed to whenever she found herself near him. “I suppose you and your brother and Lord Alwyck enjoyed many adventures in here.”

He shook his head. “I never told them about this place.” He leaned his shoulders against the wall and regarded her with an enigmatic expression. “I’ve never brought anyone here. Until now.”

His softly spoken words seemed to echo off the glittering walls. Leaning against the rock, a shadowy contrast to the shimmering crystals, he looked dark, a bit dangerous-very much like the rakish pirate she’d once imagined him-and very delicious. Her heart slapped against her rib cage so hard she wondered that the sound didn’t reverberate off the sparkling walls.

“I suppose I should then be flattered that you brought me here,” she said, proud of the light tone she achieved. Still, her curiosity made her ask, “Why did you?”

Nathan watched the glittering play of light shimmer over her, coating her in ribbons of sparkles, and any good intentions he may have harbored fled. She looked like a princess bathed in diamonds, her silky curls in glorious windblown disarray, her full lips glistening, tempting him like a siren’s call. Pushing off the wall, he slowly approached her. “I could offer any number of plausible reasons, such as I wished to play the polite host and thought you would enjoy it. Or, I’d a strong desire to visit the cave myself and since I couldn’t very well leave you alone on the beach, I brought you with me. And while those are true, if I offered them, I would be blaming my behavior on excuses rather than accepting the actual reason.” When only two feet separated them, he reached out and captured her hand. Her eyes widened slightly, but she made no move to stop him. Instead she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, clearly an unconscious gesture on her part, but one that shot liquid heat straight to his groin. Bloody hell, he didn’t stand much chance of being immune to her kiss when she rendered him so painfully aroused before their lips even met.

“What is the actual reason?” she whispered.

“Are you certain you want to know?” At her nod, he said, “I’m curious to know if the kiss we once shared would be as enjoyable the second time around.” He settled her hand on his chest, right above the spot where his heart thumped as if he’d run a race, then lightly clasped her waist and drew her slowly closer. When only inches separated them, he said, “Are you willing to admit you want the same thing?”

He stood perfectly still, waiting for her response, wondering if she would display the same courage she had the previous evening or if she would hide behind a false curtain of prim, maidenly reserve. She leaned into him, raised her face and whispered, “I want the same thing.”

Thank God. Nathan bludgeoned back the nearly overwhelming primitive desire to simply yank her against him and devour her and instead slowly lowered his head toward those tempting lips that had haunted countless hours. At last he would know if he’d just imagined how good that long ago kiss had been.

He lightly brushed his lips over hers, a tantalizing whisper of a touch. A breathless sound escaped her, and he feathered his lips over hers again, teasing, searching, tasting. He ran the tip of his tongue over her plump lower lip, an invitation she accepted by parting her lips. With a groan he couldn’t hold back, he drew her tightly against him and settled his mouth on hers. And instantly knew what had gone through the mind of the prince in the Cinderella tale when he’d finally found the foot that fit the glass slipper: It’s about bloody damn time.

Desire seared him with the intensity of a flash fire, and as it had the last time he’d held this woman in his arms and kissed her, he lost all sense of time and place. There was only her, the luscious taste of her silky mouth, the erotic friction of her tongue mating with his, the satin of her hair sifting through his fingers, the delicate scent of roses rising from her skin, the lush feel of her feminine curves pressing against him, the arousing sensation of her hands gliding up and down his back.

Damn it, he felt… unhinged. Desperate. In a way that would have appalled him if he’d had any control over his reaction to her. The last time he held her, he’d been very much aware that his brother and her aunt sat in the next room. But there was no one else here now…

Hauling her up against him, he stepped back until his shoulders hit the wall. With a deep groan, he spread his legs, planted his boots firmly in the sand, and drew her into the vee of his thighs.

Lost… he was totally, utterly lost. No woman had ever felt like this, tasted like this. Yet, it wasn’t simply the way she fit so perfectly in his arms or the delicious flavor of her that affected him so powerfully. It was also her ardent response to his kiss, to his touch. He doubted he’d have had a prayer of resisting her under any circumstances, but the fact that she kissed him, touched him, with a fervor equal to his own all but brought him to his knees.

She moaned and shifted restlessly against him, and his hands wandered down her back, to cup the enticing curve of her buttocks. He settled her more firmly against him then slowly rubbed himself against her. His erection jerked and he knew he stood in real danger of losing all control. Desperate to slow things down before he disgraced himself in a way he hadn’t since he was a green lad, but unable to stop this madness, he somehow found the strength to abandon the silken delights of her mouth, to trail his lips over her soft cheek, then along her jaw.

But he found no relief there, as her skin inundated his senses with the elusive hint of roses. He ran the tip of his tongue over the delicate shell of her ear, absorbing her sharp intake of breath, which melted into a husky groan when his teeth gently grazed her earlobe. He nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear, and she arched her neck to afford him better access, all while her hands smoothed over his chest and shoulders. He touched his tongue to the throbbing hollow at the base of her throat, absorbing the frantic beat.

Stop… he had to stop… but every halfhearted rational thought fled when she fisted her hands in his hair and dragged his head up.

“Again,” she whispered against his mouth, not a plea, but a command filled with impatience. If he’d been capable of doing so, he would have laughed at the autocratic demand, which was the same one she’d issued him three years ago. He hadn’t denied her, or himself, then, and he’d be damned if he was capable of it now.

Their mouths melded in a lush, deep kiss, his tongue stroking in an imitation of the act his body ached to share with hers. Wild hunger, unlike anything he’d ever before experienced, roared through his veins. His hands glided up her back, then forward to cup her breasts. Her beaded nipple grazed his palm through the material of her riding costume-material that had to go. He slipped off her lace fichu, then glided his fingers over the satin swells of her full breasts. Bloody hell, she was so soft. Her warm skin quivered beneath his hands, and his fingers slid beneath the edge of her bodice.

She leaned back, breaking off their kiss. “Wh-What are you doing?” she panted against his lips.

Questions? She expected him to be able to answer questions? His fingers brushed over her nipple and he groaned.

“What are you doing?”

He had to swallow to find his voice. “Surely that is obvious.”

Shoving against his chest, she pulled out of his embrace and backed up several paces. With her chest heaving, hair mussed, bodice askew, color high, and lips moist and swollen, she looked aroused and as if she’d just left her lover’s arms. Until he looked into her eyes. Then she looked like glaring Fury about to sizzle him where he stood with a lightning bolt.

“Yes, it is obvious,” she said, her eyes spitting anger as she grabbed at her bodice. “You’re looking for your letter.”