The Bedding Proposal Part 9

Silently, she prepared to endure.

To her wonderment, the sensation of his mouth wasn't unpleasant. In truth it was quite the opposite, as tendrils of pleasure radiated through her like a warming sun. His technique was a.s.sured and bold with a relaxed confidence that demonstrated his skill in the sensual arts. For a man of his age-for any man, come to that-he certainly seemed to know a great deal about kissing.

He angled his head and deepened their embrace, teasing and coaxing and nibbling at her lips as he encouraged her to open to him.

She hesitated, knowing what came next. Kissing in the French style had never been one of her favorite activities, yet suddenly she found herself curious to see how it would feel with him. Lord Leopold had surprised her so far. Maybe he would surprise her again.

She parted her lips and braced herself for the invasion. But rather than a rude, rapacious shoving of tongue, he eased forward slowly, doing nothing more than gliding the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip before touching it to the tip of hers.

She s.h.i.+vered, hot and cold tremors running gently under her skin. He flicked his tongue lightly and slid in a fraction deeper, pausing to give her time to respond as he sought her willing partic.i.p.ation.

Without thinking, she gave it, the sensations as delicious as sliding between a set of warm silk sheets on a cold winter night. Her eyelids drifted closed as their tongues tangled further in a warm, wet pas de deux. Suddenly she was kissing him back, her fingers clutching the material of his jacket as she pressed her body closer.

His palms slid over the length of her back to her waist, stroking there for a time before going even lower. All the while, his mouth moved against hers, each subsequent kiss deeper and darker than the one before, his touches both tender and demanding in ways she'd never known. He took the giving flesh of her b.u.t.tocks into his hands and gave a gentle squeeze, then rocked their hips together. She gasped softly, feeling the hard length of his erection, even through the heavy cloth of her riding habit.

His kisses turned frenzied, his breathing quickening as he imitated with his tongue what he obviously wished to do to her body. And she responded, taking what he gave and craving more.

He moved up to cup one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, testing its feminine weight and fullness as his thumb sought out her nipple. Despite its covering, the traitorous bit of flesh peaked immediately, her body clearly enjoying what he was doing to it.

His lips worked in a hot slide along her throat, scattering kisses down, down until he came to the collar of her riding jacket. He reached to unfasten the b.u.t.tons, pressing their hips even more tightly together as he sought to free her from her clothes.

And she nearly let him, imagining how it would be to have the wet heat of his mouth on her naked flesh, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s bared to the sight of his beautiful eyes and wicked tongue, her skirts tumbled high as he lowered them both to the ground and fit himself between her willing thighs.

But then she remembered other times, other hands, and broke their kiss, her thinking mind jolting back to life. She pushed against his chest, struggling suddenly to free herself from his hold.

Immediately, he let her go.

His eyes had turned a virid green; he was so consumed with desire that the pupils had all but crowded out the gold. "A good beginning," he said with husky satisfaction. "Next time will be even better."

Her fingers curled trembling at her sides, leaving her grateful for the concealing nature of her voluminous skirts. Her heart pounded improbably fast, her body not feeling at all like her own. For the first time, she wondered if she had made a dreadful mistake, letting him take the liberties she had allowed.

Because, she realized with sudden worry, he might be right about the next time being better.

And if it was . . .

No, she must rid herself of him once and for all. It was imperative that she find the means to stop him from continuing his pursuit. For if he did not, the risk just might prove too great to bear.

Chapter 9.

It was half past midnight when Leo dismissed his valet from his guest bedchamber. He was comfortably attired in a long robe of soft brown cashmere, a pair of supple leather slippers on his feet. After picking up the small gla.s.s of brandy he'd poured for himself, he crossed to settle into an armchair positioned near the cozily burning fire. A log popped in the grate, red sparks flas.h.i.+ng upward before the flames calmed again.

He opened a book and settled the volume on his lap. But it wasn't the words inside that held his interest. His thoughts were all for Lady Thalia, just as they had been for the whole of the day.

And what a long day it had been.

With activities scheduled one after another, beginning with the hunt breakfast to which he and Thalia had returned after their ride, there had been virtually no opportunity to speak with her. Something or someone always seemed to keep them apart. Even when the gentlemen joined the ladies after dinner, he had found Thalia otherwise engaged. If he hadn't known better, he might have thought she was avoiding him. But maybe she was simply being cautious, not wanting to add to the speculation already swirling around them.

His thoughts went once more to the kisses they had shared in the meadow, his blood heating with pleasure and antic.i.p.ation for their next encounter. He couldn't wait to be alone with her again. Could barely contain his need to have her in his arms. She was everything he had dreamed of and more. Yet her kisses had surprised him.

For an experienced woman there was a curious reticence to her touch, an emotional reserve he had not expected. Still, she had warmed to him after those first few moments, her natural pa.s.sions turning her pliant and inviting. Those fleeting moments with her had further whetted his appet.i.te. He'd wanted her before. Now he craved her with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Only imagine how much better it was going to be once they were together fully and without restriction.

Ignoring the desire that hummed through him like a live charge, he forced his gaze back to his book, searching for the paragraph where he'd left off. But even after he'd started reading again, he couldn't concentrate, his mind still on Thalia.

He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, wondering how soon everyone in the house would be abed. What if he went to her now rather than waiting for their upcoming a.s.signation? She might not thank him for it, though, especially if he got caught outside her bedchamber door.

She'd made it plain that she did not approve of the efforts he'd used to get her invited to Holland House. Yet if not for his scheming, she might never have agreed to see him again, let alone change her mind about the two of them forming a liaison. From his perspective, any temporary disapproval on her part was well worth it.

He yawned and laid his book aside. If he wasn't sneaking off to her room, he supposed he ought to go to sleep. He quaffed the last of his brandy and had just stood when a quiet rap came at the door. He tensed, sudden antic.i.p.ation racing through him.

Was it possible? Could Thalia have come to him?

Instead, he found a maidservant waiting on the other side. She held out a note. "Pardon me, my lord, I was asked to deliver this to you prompt-like."

He accepted the folded piece of cream-colored vellum. "Thank you."

The girl curtsied and walked away.

Leo stepped back and closed his door. He lifted the letter to his nose, catching a trace of lilac on the paper. Thalia hadn't come to him in person, but at least she had sent a note. Exactly as promised.

He broke the seal with eagerness.

Meet me by the pond near the great oak

tomorrow at four.

It had no signature. Then again, it didn't need one.

Smiling, he crossed the room and tucked the note inside his book, knowing that tomorrow could not come soon enough.

Thalia set off from the Holland House stables the following afternoon, mounted on the same spirited mare she'd ridden to hunt the day before.

She was already a few minutes late for her tryst with Lord Leopold. The ladies had taken longer than planned to return from a "wilderness" sketching expedition in the nearby woods, putting her behind schedule by the time they all strolled back to the house.

Once there, ladies and gentlemen alike had separated for a few hours of rest in their rooms before dinner. With the house quiet and the servants occupied with their duties and their own meal belowstairs, it was an easy thing to slip away unnoticed.

Even so, she'd nearly changed her mind.

Yesterday's kiss had shaken her. She hadn't expected to like it so much. Nor had she thought to find herself dwelling on the embrace again and again, wondering what it might be like to share another with him.

She'd sensed before that Lord Leopold could be dangerous; now she knew it for a fact. Which was why she had decided to keep their appointed rendezvous in spite of her qualms. She couldn't afford to let matters progress any further between them. She'd learned through great pain and suffering what it was to be at the mercy of a man. She'd vowed never to let herself be put in such a circ.u.mstance again. If that meant resorting to desperate measures, then desperate measures it would have to be.

Lord Leopold wanted her and she needed to find a way to change his mind. So far cold champagne and even colder refusals had done nothing to lessen his interest. Hopefully what she had planned this afternoon would put an end to his pursuit of her once and for all, as well as teach him a much-deserved lesson about the need to respect a lady's wishes.

As for their rendezvous spot, a helpful groundskeeper had told her about the pond and the great oak where she and Lord Leopold were to meet. The gray-haired servant described the area in enthusiastic detail, expounding on the beauty of the foliage and the secluded nature of the freshwater pond.

She'd thought it sounded like the perfect location. And it was, she realized as she rode the last few yards toward the spot. The giant tree stood fifty feet tall, exactly as described, its branches now bared for the autumn. The pond lay close by, glimpses of its blue waters visible through a thick surround of smaller trees and evergreen shrubs.

Nearby, a horse stood tethered to a low-hanging branch.

Lord Leopold was waiting.

He walked forward as she drew her mare to a halt; sere leaves of gold and red crunched quietly under his boots. He smiled and reached up to lift her down from her horse. She didn't resist this time, but let him wrap his strong hands around her waist to ease her from the saddle.

Just as he'd done the day previous, he took his time, letting her body slide against his own for long, long moments before finally allowing her feet to touch the ground.

Quivers gathered low in her belly, her breathing not entirely steady in her lungs. She ignored both reactions and stepped away before he had a chance to lower his head and kiss her.

"Come back," he said in a silky voice as he reached out to bring her near again. "I haven't said good day to you properly yet."

"You haven't said good day to me at all," she admonished gently. "But here is not the place for pleasantries, at least not of the sort you have in mind. Let us move closer to the pond where we will be unseen. We can talk there."

He nodded, then reached for the reins of her horse to lead the animal forward.

While he secured her mare not far from his own steed, Thalia made her way toward the pond. The surrounding foliage did indeed create an atmosphere of privacy, the greenery a lush barrier that protected those enjoying the pond from the prying eyes of casual pa.s.sersby.

Just as it had been yesterday, the weather was unseasonably warm, more suited to a summer day than one in the autumn. She hadn't even needed to wear a cloak, the lightweight, short-sleeved tan pelisse she'd chosen earlier more than adequate for the task. It went well with her forest green day dress. She supposed she ought to have changed into her riding habit again, but there hadn't been time; the loose-fitting gown suited her purposes better anyway.

She was studying the water, her mind full to the brim with thoughts, when a pair of long male arms caught her around the waist. Lord Leopold spun her around before she could gather her senses, his mouth taking hers without so much as a word. His touch was every bit as delicious as she remembered, pa.s.sionate and inviting in ways that surprised her still. She gave in to the pleasure for a short while, then forced herself to pull away.

Because however tempting his kisses might be, she couldn't forget her purpose. Not now. And certainly not for a fleeting taste of pa.s.sion with some arrogant rakeh.e.l.l who would forget her two minutes after he got her into his bed.

For as charming and persuasive as Leopold Byron might be, she had no illusions about the fact that he considered her a prize to be won. Not much different really from the fox they had chased the day before. She had no intention of being anyone's prey-not ever again.

He thought he knew her, but all he knew was the rumors, not the real woman inside. He didn't want the true Thalia Lennox, who strove to maintain her pride and integrity as a lady in spite of her public shame. Instead he wanted the fantasy-the lascivious seductress and unprincipled divorcee who supposedly devoured men like sweetmeats. What he longed for was a woman who did not exist. But shortly he was going to find out that he wasn't going to get either Thalia-the real one or the fake.

Wearing a false smile, she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Now, now, let's not rush things. We only just arrived."

"Yes, but our time is limited before we have to return." He leaned down to steal another kiss. "Let's not squander it."

She turned her head away so that his kiss landed on her jaw instead of her mouth. "We won't be squandering anything. I chose this location for a reason, you know. I thought we could have a little fun first."

"I believe that's what we're already doing." His arms tightened around her again.

Slowly, she shook her head. "I mean a different sort of fun." Lifting up on her toes, she kissed him just below his ear. "The naked sort," she whispered.

She felt his body tense with obvious desire.

"Exactly the kind I like best." His eyes gleamed. "What did you have in mind?"

She stroked her fingertips along his smoothly shaven cheek and watched his eyelids turn heavy. "Hmm, with the weather so clement, I thought a dip in the pond would be nice."

"A dip in the pond would be very nice." He smiled, his hands moving toward the fastenings on her dress.

Quickly, she stepped out of his hold and danced back so that she was out of his reach. She waggled a finger. "Not yet, Lord Leopold. You first."

"Me?" He arched a fine golden brow.

"It's all part of the excitement. I don't care for surprises, so I want to see exactly what I'm getting. Undress yourself."

His eyes widened briefly; then he grinned. "As you like." His fingers went to the b.u.t.tons on his waistcoat.

As a healthy male in his prime, he exuded supreme confidence. It rolled off him like a tide, natural and without restriction. He didn't look away, but instead held her gaze as he began to strip-boots first, then the rest. He preened, corded muscles flexing without the slightest inhibition as he removed one piece of clothing after the other. They landed in a pile in the gra.s.s until he stood bare from head to toe.

Another part of him stood proudly unashamed as well, his erect shaft jutting out from his body with a length and girth that would have been impressive by anyone's standards. She had always considered her former husband an attractive man-on the outside at least-but he'd never looked like this.

Lord Leopold was quite simply mouthwatering.

Her pulse beat up into her throat; she was tempted in spite of herself. But indulging her unexpected case of prurient interest wasn't part of the plan. Steadying her resolve, she gave herself a firm mental shake.

"Turn around," she said, twirling a pair of her fingers in the air for encouragement.

His grin widened. "But of course, my lady."

He held his arms out from his body and turned. The view from that angle was even better, his taut b.u.t.tocks and long muscled legs practically begging to be caressed.

He turned to face her again. "Well, do I meet with your approval?"

"Most a.s.suredly," she murmured with complete truth.

"Your turn," he said, setting his fists on his hips. "I can't wait to see what's under those skirts of yours. Do you require a.s.sistance disrobing? I've been told I perform admirably as a lady's maid."

She had no doubt that he knew his way around the intricacies of feminine attire, considering all the women he must have bedded.

"I am sure you do," she said, "but I would rather do it myself. Why don't you go ahead into the water. I'll join you there in a minute."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "But I'd rather watch."

"You can watch next time. I am a lady, after all. I don't want to reveal all my charms at once."

For a moment, he didn't look convinced. Then he shrugged. "Very well. But don't take too long."

"Oh, I shan't."