71cb07b
|
"Diriday is the perfect mount for me." In that low, deep, beastly growl, he replied, "It's good to know you'll... ride... as I wish." She flushed. Her toes curled, and her nipples tightened into firm beads that ached to be touched. How had he done it? She'd said the most obvious thing, and he'd made it clear he wasn't talking about the horse. He pried her bare fingers from the rail of the stall and kissed them. "I find Lady Gertrude is a good chaperon," he said. Eleanor nodded, stricken dumb by the brief brush of his lips that had sent goose bumps racing up her arms. He placed her hand on his shoulder. "So good, you and I haven't had a moment alone together." "We're alone now." Unwise to remind him! He crooned with satisfaction, "So we are." "So we should go now." She tried to step away, to obey her instincts and flee. Mr. Knight maneuvered her so that her back was to the post. "Fortunately, Lady Gertrude doesn't ride, and doesn't see that our being together now is a cause of concern." "It's not." Eleanor tried to speak firmly, yet she ended on a questioning note. "Lady Gertrude has no imagination." In the dim light, his eyes watched her relentlessly, like a falcon watches a fleeing morsel. In slow increments, he extended his free hand and wrapped it around her waist. "I find myself wondering about you." When had the situation turned dangerous? "I'm easily understood." "You're a mystery, one I find myself compelled to solve. I want to know whether you like to kiss with your mouth closed... or open." She gasped in shock. "Where you find most pleasure when a man's mouth, mouth, roams your body." She wanted to gasp once more, but the gratification she saw in his face stopped her. Yes, he shocked her. He enjoyed shocking her. But she being so craven. She yearned to take him back, and out of the depths of that need, she found the nerve to reply, "You may ask me those questions, and mayhap, if I wish, I'll reply. But don't imagine you yourself can discover the answers." " . What a novel idea." A small smile played across his velvet lips. "Yes, you could me, of course, but I find I like to make discoveries on my own." Pulling her close against his body, he sealed them together. Discoveries? She could tell him about discoveries. She like being embraced so tightly that her breasts pressed against his chest; and that, and the amusement in his gaze, were reasons enough to leave- at once. With a twist, she freed herself and ran. He sprang after her. Two stalls down, he caught her by the waist. He swung her against the gate and held her hard against him. She stared into his pale blue eyes and with all her heart wished she had some experience in these matters, for she had never felt so helpless in her life. "I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was deep and heated. "I'm not going to ravish you. I'm just going to kiss you."
|
|
remington-knight
|
Christina Dodd |
8542bdf
|
"I don't... we can't..." His white teeth flashed in his tanned face, and he pulled her up against him so that she stood on her toes, so that her balance depended on him. "I can't believe I've managed to wait so long." What did he mean, so long? They'd met only two days ago. Then she saw his expression as he lowered his head to hers, and she realized that for this man, two days of restraint were an eternity. The man saw what he wanted and he went after it- and he wanted her. Her eyes closed as his lips touched hers. Close-mouthed, gentle, seeking. She tried to pretend this wasn't happening. Madeline didn't want him and wouldn't wed him, yet it wasn't right for Eleanor to kiss her cousin's fiance. But the crackle of hay beneath her feet and the scent of the horses gave this moment an unrelenting reality. The buttons on Mr. Knight's jacket dug into her sternum. His arms handled her with an expertise that bespoke familiarity in handling an unwilling woman, and he kissed... like a beast of sensual powers. His lips were silky soft, skilled in the art of love, giving pleasure with the lightest touch. He barely brushed her lips, yet she found herself lifting her face, seeking his touch like a flower follows the sun."
|
|
remington-knight
first-kiss
|
Christina Dodd |
8a41b67
|
"You must think I'm... unchaste." He didn't laugh at her, or even look amused. "No, I think you're lonely." "What?" "I'm not lonely." She had her duties. She had her relatives. She lived a productive life. "You kiss like a woman who stands on the outside, always peering in the window of life and wishing she were there, yet never having the guts to demand entrance." "That's not true." Curse him, it was exactly true. He paid her no heed. "Those days are over. Whatever you're afraid of, you should be more afraid of me." He didn't have to insist. She was. His brows were lowered, his jaw firm, his eyes flinty. "Listen to me. From now on, you're going to be at my side every minute. No matter what happens, no matter how objectionable the events, no matter how unhappy you make yourself, at the end of the day you're going to go home with me. And at night... I'll show you all the wonders of desire. Our nights will be passionate and grand beyond your wildest dreams, and I'll take you to the edge of passion again and again. You'll squirm beneath me and atop of me, you'll touch every inch of my skin, you'll live for my kisses. Until one day you'll wake up and all you can think of is me. Of the pleasure I bring you. Of how it feels when I'm inside you. All the sorrow will fall away, and you'll be mine forever."
|
|
remington-knight
passionate-love
|
Christina Dodd |
3d21345
|
"Lady Shapster pointed a long finger at Eleanor. "You don't aspire to marry ." Eleanor wanted to leap at her, to stifle her and that dreadful, smooth, accusatory tone. Mr. Knight's lips drew back from his teeth, and his voice was scarcely audible when he said, "Do not tell me what I aspire to do. You know nothing about me or my aspirations. Now- want to leave. I'll escort you to the door." "Such a scene," Beau Brummel murmured. "So sad when a noted beauty fades to infamy."
|
|
remington-knight
|
Christina Dodd |
3c019a3
|
She heard nothing but experienced a sensation that prickled along her spine like a warm touch caressing her skin. Slowly, with the care of prey beneath a predator's survey, she turned her head- and met the gaze of the elegant gentleman lounging at the door. In her travels, she had seen many a striking and charming man, but none had been as handsome as this- and all had been more charming. This man was a statue in stark black and white, hewn from rugged granite and adolescent dreams. His face wasn't really handsome; his nose was thin and crooked, his eyes heavy lidded, his cheekbones broad, stark and hollowed. But he wielded a quality of power, of toughness, that made Eleanor want to huddle into a shivering, cowardly little ball. Then he smiled, and she caught her breath in awe. His mouth... his glorious, sensual mouth. His lips were wide, too wide, and broad, too broad. His teeth were white, clean, strong as a wolf's. He looked like a man seldom amused by life, but he was amused by her, and she realized in a rush of mortification that she remained standing on the stool, reading one of his books and lost to the grave realities of her situation. The reality that stated she was an imposter, sent to mollify this man until the real duchess could arrive. Mollify? Him? Not likely. Nothing would mollify him. Nothing except... well, whatever it was he wanted. And she wasn't fool enough to think she knew what that was. The immediate reality was that she would somehow have to step down onto the floor and of necessity expose her ankles to his gaze. It wasn't as if he wouldn't look. He was looking now, observing her figure with an appreciation all the more impressive for its subtlety. His gaze flicked along her spine, along her backside, and down her legs with such concentration that she formed the impression he knew very well what she looked like clad only in her chemise- and that was an unnerving sensation.
|
|
eleanor-de-lacy
remington-knight
handsome
|
Christina Dodd |
ac2f63a
|
His silence made her lift one shoulder defensively. If he was trying to intimidate her, he was doing a first-rate job. Just when she was going to say something else- she didn't know what, but something that would crush this beast and his pretensions- he started forward. At once she realized she had named him correctly. He was a beast. He moved like a panther on the prowl, all smooth and leggy- and he prowled toward her. The closer he got, the bigger he seemed, tall and broad at the shoulder. He seemed an element of nature, a rugged mountain, a powerful sea- or a beast, a huge, ruthless beast who kept his claws hidden until he chose to use them. In a moment of panic, the imposter thought,
|
|
eleanor-and-rem
remington-knight
|
Christina Dodd |
ce81029
|
Again he reached for her. Again he brought her up against him. But this time he showed her how very much he'd restrained himself before. Sliding his hand along the base of her neck, he thrust his fingers in her shorn hair and cradled her skull. He put his open mouth on hers, demanding response at once with the thrust of his tongue, and when she didn't open to him, he nipped at her lower lip. She cried out, an incoherent, startled sound. He was inside. Their first kisses had been exploration, a chance for him to taste her, a chance for her to grow used to him. His tongue thrust rhythmically into the cavity of her mouth. Her lips grew tender under his assault. She hardly knew what to think, what to do... but it didn't matter. He had taken control. The care he'd used the first times he'd kissed her was absent now. This time he sought satisfaction, and he sought it angrily, passionately.
|
|
kissing
remington-knight
passionate
|
Christina Dodd |
3bbfb4e
|
"Furthermore, she poured tea on a regular basis. Madeline didn't care to, while Eleanor found comfort in the scent, the warmth, the routine. But right now, with all of Mr. Knight's attention focused on her, the task became an ordeal. The pot seemed to weigh too much. The cup rattled in the saucer as she picked it up. She tilted the pot, aimed the spout toward the cup- And in that same, smiling, deceptively pleasant voice, Mr. Knight said, "I like having a duchess wait on me." Both of Eleanor's hands shook. The hot liquid splashed on her fingers. She dropped the cup. As she reached for it, it shattered against the table. A shard jabbed into her palm. She yanked her hand back and closed her fingers. In a rush, he came and knelt beside her. "Are you hurt? Did you burn yourself?" "No, no, I'm fine." She wasn't fine. She was embarrassed. She cultivated the graceful moves of a lady for a reason. She hated making a spectacle of herself- and now her nerves had betrayed her. "Please, Mr. Knight, stand up." For all the notice he took of her, she might not have spoken. Turning her hand to the light, he at once detected the slight cut beneath her little finger, oozing a sullen drop of scarlet blood. "You've cut yourself." "Only a little." She tried to tug her hand back. "I was clumsy. I broke your beautiful cup." "To hell with the cup." He pressed his finger lightly on the cut. She winced. "You're lucky. There's nothing in there." Lifting her hand to his mouth, he sucked the small wound. Shocked, she stared at him. His head bent over her hand, his chiseled features were intent, serious. His mouth was warm, wet, and the suction he used made her feel... odd. More animal than human, pain and intimacy mixing... never, ever had a man's mouth touched her on any part, in any way."
|
|
eleanor-de-lacy
remington-knight
intimate
|
Christina Dodd |
bcba13d
|
"Now that you're here, you cannot leave." He leaned close and whispered, "My future wife stays in my house- with me." . Eleanor was trapped in this man's house. "I can't stay here." She shrank from Mr. Knight, from the visions he inspired. Visions of villainous seduction and of social banishment. And beneath it all, a desperate excitement, an excitement that she wouldn't admit to, but it was there nonetheless. If he came to her bedchamber in the dark of night, would she do the proper thing? Would she fight? In a soft voice, she said, "I'm... unwed." "For the moment." His words, his voice, his gaze made clear his intentions toward her- or rather, toward his bride. He intended their marriage to be not one of convenience but one created of passion and tangled emotions. "We be wed. That I promise you." . Her mouth dropped open at her own lascivious notion."
|
|
remington-knight
|
Christina Dodd |
9cdc9e6
|
"What an expression of relief, my dear fiancee. However did you make your way through London society with such a revealing face? Not that I object, you understand." Leaning toward her, Mr. Knight smiled with the kind of intimate bewitchment that made her swallow to relieve her suddenly dry mouth. "When a woman is as beautiful as you are, she's usually adept at hiding her emotions. With you, I'll always know what gives you pleasure, and strive always to do as you wish."
|
|
remington-knight
|
Christina Dodd |
2f05c79
|
"Staring into his cold, pale eyes, she felt the chill of the future. Slowly, as if irresistibly drawn, he slid his fingers into her hair, loosening the already drooping chignon at the base of her neck. Leaning his face toward her, he spoke, his voice gravelly with desire. "I love your hair. It's as thick and rich as sable. I'll see this spread over my pillow before a fortnight has passed. I'll bury my face in it and drink in the scent. I'll use it to hold you in place while you thrash beneath me and moan with pleasure." She was shocked by every word. By every threat and every promise. But more than that, she watched his soft, tempting lips move with his words, and she wanted those lips on hers."
|
|
remington-knight
|
Christina Dodd |
dc85158
|
"I'm Lady Codell-Fitch, and like so many of us, I wish to offer congratulations on your betrothal." "Yes, congratulations." "Congratulations!" "Amazing betrothal!" The felicitations were insincere and accompanied by many an ogling stare, but Eleanor pretended, as Madeline would, to be pleased. Taking Mr. Knight's arm, she pressed it. "He is quite handsome." She found herself daring to defy them all with an up-tilted chin. "I wish you all could be so lucky." The lushly garbed and overly perfumed people were obviously taken aback. They must have expected her to align herself with them, the English nobility, and with a wink and a sigh show how very much she hated this match. But she didn't even have to wonder how Madeline would react to this situation, for in this instance the two cousins thought as one. Neither of them would allow Mr. Knight to suffer the slights of society. They might not wish for this marriage, but the de Lacy pride wouldn't allow them to let anyone else know. Close by her ear, Mr. Knight said quietly, "A pretty pretense, yet lest you imagine I'm impressed, let me assure you I remember this morning when you tried to escape. Tonight you defied me in the matter of your hair and your clothing, and lied to me to get your way. I take your words with a grain of salt." He chuckled deeply."
|
|
eleanor-de-lacy
remington-knight
|
Christina Dodd |
0785b8a
|
But perhaps, tonight, Eleanor should do as Madeline would do- and live for the moment. Tonight, she would abandon her fears and behave as any young lady would who danced her first dance at her first ball with the most handsome man in the room. Catching a glimpse of the dancers in one of the mirrors, she admired one young lady who moved with grace, who dressed with flare and whose hair looked dashing and sophisticated. As Eleanor watched, the lady imitated Eleanor's movements. She wore Eleanor's clothing. And Eleanor realized... the dashing female was herself. was the one who danced like a dream. Her haircut had transformed her face. She appeared younger, joyful, strikingly modish. She looked less like Madeline and more like... like Eleanor might have looked if her stepmother had never made her appearance in Eleanor's life. Eleanor laughed at herself. Foolish to think a simple cut could change her, but spying herself unaware made her realize that looks were deceiving. No matter how frightened she felt inside, no one could see past the fashionable facade. No one except Mr. Knight. He took her hand for the promenade and looked into her eyes. He had a way of dancing that was almost like... making love. With him, she felt like the finest dancer in the world. They moved together, and when the music ended, she couldn't restrain her smile. She was happy. Tonight, for this moment, she was happy.
|
|
happiness
live-in-the-moment
eleanor-de-lacy
remington-knight
|
Christina Dodd |