Chapter 17

Chapter

Seventeen

T he kiss was everything. He could lose himself in Charlotte's arms. A little bell of warning went off in the back of his mind. This was wrong—unacceptable behavior for a man who worked for his living. He ought not to be kissing a duke's daughter, yet he could not stop.

Would not stop unless she told him enough.

She pressed against him, pushing him into the squabs of the carriage, and kissed him back with a passion that stole his wits. The heat coursing through his body was unlike anything he'd ever known. Every nerve was alive, his skin aflame. He wanted her to be his.

In every way she could be.

His wife. Lover. Friend.

He wanted it all.

"Alexander," she sighed against his lips, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were heavy with desire, and burned with unsated need. He knew the feeling well, but there could be no more between them than this kiss. He was breaking enough rules as it was, kissing a woman of her rank—an unmarried miss, a duke's daughter. He could not consume her entirely and put her at risk of ruin.

He would not repeat the errors of his parent's past that had paved the life he now led.

"Yes." He ran his fingers through her thick, beautiful blonde hair. She had it piled high this evening, the curls meticulously woven into and around a wig of similar color. Sweet vanilla teased his senses. She was so lovely, his heart almost stopped each time he saw her.

"Kissing you isn't enough. I want more," she whispered, her voice laced with longing.

He sighed and set her on the seat beside him, reluctantly putting distance between them. "I may be wealthy, possibly enough to satisfy your father, but I am illegitimate—a son of a maid. There can be nothing more than a few kisses between us, no matter how much it pains me to say such things."

"I do not care what others believe is correct for me or whom I should marry to satisfy my family. I want you." She reached for him, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if he could never let go.

"I want to meet your mama. I want to know all there is to learn about you." She glanced up at him, her wide, soulful eyes full of hope and beseeching. "Please, Alexander. Let me choose what I want for myself, not my family."

If only decisions were so easily made. How was she so different to all of those who sculptured her life? She was a rare flower in a field of thorns. "I will not steal you away to Gretna like Lady Genevieve and marry you without your family's consent. I will not marry you without their approval and that will never be forthcoming. You love your family. It would only hurt you more if you lost them but gained me. Such a beginning to a marriage would be shaky indeed, and not a solid footing."

"I do not care what my family thinks. They are not the ones being asked to give up what they want. I want you. I have for so long. Have you not seen or sensed my wanting of you?" Her voice cracked slightly, but there was determination in her words.

Oh, he had felt every moment of her interest—her glances under dark, long lashes when she thought no one was watching, the small smiles, the silly little questions she would ask him when walking past his office…

"In time, you will care."

She frowned, tension thrumming through her. He pulled her closer, knowing their time alone would be brief, and they would soon be arriving at the ducal mansion.

"If we cannot do as we wish, then can we at least enjoy the small amount of time we're afforded in London before the Season comes to an end? All too soon, we'll be back in the country where I'll never see you with how busy you'll be kept with Papa." She paused, pursing her lips. "You do a lot of errands for Papa, and I often go shopping or to the park with my maid. We could spend time together then. I could meet your mama and learn more about your life. And if by the end of the Season, you're not madly in love with me and wish to part as friends, then I shall bid you adieu."

He chuckled, knowing there was no chance he would ever want to say goodbye to the woman in his arms. While he couldn't name the feelings that rioted within him, he knew they were intense, wild, and possessive—unlike anything he'd ever known.

He thought about her request, and as much as he shouldn't, he could not see too much wrong with it. He could happen upon her at the park or see her about town. It could be purely circumstantial.

"I would like to happen upon you whenever and as often as I can," he admitted, damning himself to her charm and unable to care a fig about the trouble he might have set in motion by doing so.

"I take a turn about the gardens at ten every morning. Perhaps you could happen to be walking the grounds at the same time. I also like to ride every second day at Hyde Park. Now that my hand is finally improving, I can return to that schedule. Maybe you could also be out then."

He ran a finger down her soft cheek, relishing the warm feel of her skin under his fingertip. "And when can we be alone like this again? I already miss having you in my arms."

"I will be sure to find moments for us to be alone. I'll try to return from my social obligations a little earlier than Mama and Papa. I know it may mean late evenings for you…"

"I do not care how late you return. I shall wait for you in my office. The room may be dim; I shall not keep a candle burning so as not to draw attention. But check nonetheless. It may be our only chance to be as we are now."

"And when we return home now? Will you retire, or shall you be doing some work in your office?" She smiled playfully, her eyes shining with mischief.

Her wicked grin made him chuckle. He quickly stole another kiss, but the innocent brush of lips rapidly morphed into something deeper, something more primal. He cupped her face and kissed her deeply, savoring the sweet, intoxicating taste of her.

Her fingers spiked into his hair, fisting his locks. He moaned, loving the hunger she was unashamed to display. His body hardened, and his breath hitched. He wanted her with a longing that pushed the limits of his control.

How would he ever find the power to stop?

He hoisted her onto his lap, his hands tugging at the layers of her skirt, desperate to feel her warmth against him. His hands found her hips, clasped her firmly, and pressed her sweet, aching core against his hard length, teasing them both with the friction.

She moaned, grinding against him like a woman who had learned the language of desire. "Alexander," she gasped, rubbing against his cock, taking her pleasure with a fervor that made him ache.

"Does it feel good?" He needed to hear her say it, to know she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"Yes… So good. I've wanted you for so long." She leaned her forehead against his, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she rocked her hips against him, seeking, taking.

"I know what happens between a man and a woman. There was a book I looked at with my friends that explained so much. I've even touched myself and found pleasure, but it was nothing like this—nothing like how I feel in your arms."

Her words tore through the last shred of control he had. He spent hard in his breeches while she continued to grind against him, oblivious to what she had done. He kissed her fiercely as she found her release, holding her close as they both trembled with the aftermath of their shared desire.

"I've wanted you for longer still," he whispered against her lips, knowing that while he may never have her completely, he would cherish these stolen moments for as long as they could have them.