Chapter 18

CHAPTER18

As much as the Irington Estate was in a sort of joyous buzz, Evan found himself groggily making his way to his own breakfast. He had spent most of the entire night awake, tortured by images of Lady Amy in various states of undress, and it was only when he finally succumbed to touching himself to dreams of her that sleep finally claimed him.

However, when he woke up, he felt his desire for her like a slow burn in the back of his mind.

With any other lady, he would have arranged a clandestine meeting after the ball and had his way with her. However, not only was she an unmarried young woman that he should rightly keep his hands off, but he was also bound by that idiotic bet he made with his own best friend.

Back then, he had thought that it would be rather simple. He was just supposed to charm Lady Amy, but how did it get so complicated in the span of a few days?

And he still had six more days to go!

"Dammit!" he growled, downing the rest of his coffee.

The best course of action now would be to stay away from Lady Amy, of course. The distance between them would serve as a deterrent to his unbelievable desire to kiss her and make love to her throughout the long night...

But if he did that, perhaps she would slip from his grasp, too! She had already proven herself to be quite impervious to the usual tactics he used to charm other women. If he stopped now, she just might evade him, and he could still lose that damned bet.

No, he still had to maintain the image of a gentleman with noble intentions towards her while trying to keep his hands to himself for another six days...

It was for that reason that he had sent his card over to the Irington Estate early that morning to let the ladies of the house know that he would be paying them a call. It would be something akin to torture to sit there and try to be on his best behavior. Hopefully, Lady Amy would take pity on him and dress herself in such a way as to curb his intense desire for her.

At this point, though, he doubted if there was anything that could make her less desirable to him because he would still desire her even if she were to dress herself like a sack of potatoes.

Was he, then, doomed to fail?

* * *

Fortunately, Lady Amy had not made things harder for him when he called upon her that day. Unfortunately, she was also dressed in a refreshing green frock that brought out the emerald of her eyes as well as the glowing dewiness of her skin.

When she sailed into the salon, she was like a breath of fresh air—only that she knocked the air out of his lungs. Dammit, how could one creature be so alluring even when she was dressed in a relatively modest manner? Had he not seen other beautiful women dressed more scandalously? Why was he reacting to her in such a way?

But who was he to question human desires? He had already given up trying to explain his way out of this insanity.

Three more days to go, he reminded himself. Three more days to go, and this damned challenge will be over!

Later that night, he still could not get how... different she had been that day, in her dress and in the manner in which she treated him. There was none of that simpering insanity or hostile venom.

He actually found her rather... pleasant to talk to. In fact, he found himself actually looking forward to seeing her again.

Evan stood up and poured himself a glass of brandy. He was about to indulge in the numbing effects of alcohol for the night when he heard a polite knocking on his door.

Evan’s eyes narrowed at the intrusion. Could it perhaps be an emergency with one of his textile mills?

"Your Grace, there is a message from Lady Amy Clarke."

At the mere mention of her name, Evan stood up, along with a certain appendage of his body. Damn Amy and her effect on him! What could she want to tell him that she had to send a message after dark?

The thought of it had Evan yanking the door open to see his butler with a simple envelope sealed with some wax. His name was written in the back with neat, precise letters which made him smile. Her handwriting reflected her personality perfectly.

He immediately tore through the envelope and drew out a piece of paper with a just a short message inside.

My dearest Duke, it said. Meet me at the gazebo in the gardens of Irington Estate at ten o’clock tonight.

How utterly scandalous! Did this woman have no sense of propriety at all? Did she not realize that she could be ruined if they were discovered together at such an hour?

But even as logic rebelled against that notion, he found himself telling Norton to summon his valet to help him prepare for their clandestine meeting. It was so, so wrong on many levels, and he knew that he was playing with fire by accepting her invitation...but he also could not keep away from her.

Lady Amy, without a doubt, truly was the most exhilarating and exasperating adventure he had ever embarked on in his entire life…

* * *

Evan had heard before that the gardens of the Irington Estate were a marvel to behold, and that was all due to the late Marchioness’s attention. It was common knowledge amongst the ton that Lord Irington’s deceased wife loved flowers, and he had handed the gardens of his estate unto her care until she died. Evan was pleasantly surprised that it had not gone into disrepair after her death.

Quietly, he crept into the gazebo that Lady Amy mentioned and saw the faint fluttering of something from within. He knew this was a bad idea, that being here in the dark with her alone was going to tempt him to do things he should not be doing...

And yet, he had always felt strangely compelled to draw ever nearer to her.

"I thought that you would not come," the voice from within remarked with a tinge of petulance.

For all that she acted mature and unmoved by the ton and its peccadilloes, it was very easy to forget that Lady Amy was a young woman herself and as such, given to the same actions. Evan, however, found it endearing that she would find cause to complain about his tardiness. It moved his heart somewhat that she had been waiting for him, even as she tempted him at every turn.

"Somebody should have told you that it is not appropriate for a young lady to meet with her suitor in such circumstances," he smirked at her, folding his arms across his broad chest as he glanced down at her. Try as he might to look rather intimidatingly at her when she laughed lightly and hopped off the wooden bench within, he could not find it in his heart to continue doing so.

"A lovely evening to you then, Your Grace," she demurred with a mocking curtsy.

He returned the favor with a gallant bow. "It is as lovely as you are, Lady Amy Clarke."

He saw how her cheeks stained pink under the moonlight and could not resist reaching out to caress the warmth. Under his fingertips, her skin was smooth, filled with the vitality of life.

To him, she had always seemed like the flickering flames—dancing and constantly changing, never staying the same thing for very long.

"Why have you summoned me here, My Lady?" he asked her hoarsely.

She shrugged delicately. "Are trysts not the norm between a lady and her suitor?"

Elation bloomed in his chest. "Do you consider me your suitor then?"

"Of course. Although you have yet to approach my father regarding such a thing. He has been on tenterhooks wondering when you would do so."

Evan sighed inwardly. He truly was to blame for that, for he had thought that this dalliance with Lady Amy would not last beyond the stipulated time that Benedict had set out for their challenge. Now, he knew it would never be quite enough.

Would a lifetime even be enough? He was not quite so sure anymore. When it came to Lady Amy, nothing was ever set in stone, and in a way, he liked it.

"I have been remiss in my duties as your suitor," he murmured softly, smoothing his thumb over her cheek. "I hope the Lady will forgive me for my negligence."

She looked up at him, and Evan cursed himself for his arrogance in thinking he could come here and retain a firm hold over his desires. Right now, her eyes glimmered like emeralds in the moonlight, and he found himself sucked into their spell.

"I shall forgive you," she said with a haughty smirk, as if she was giving a boon to a peasant, "if you kiss me."

Evan knew he should have refused. It would have been the right thing to do in these circumstances. Besides, he already knew that with Lady Amy, he would never be able to stop with just one kiss.

But, oh, he was a fool for the temptress before him!

His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck as he slanted his lips over her. He saw briefly how her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, heard her breath hitch in her throat as he hovered over her lips briefly.

When he kissed her—as gently as he might have intended—something inside him exploded, and Evan knew he was in deep trouble.

Kissing her was never just to be a kiss—it was something that ignited his soul and made him ache to be as close to her as possible. It made him want to tear at her clothes and unite their bodies in a storm of passion. And when she moaned so sweetly, he found himself hardening almost much too quickly for her.

It truly was a wonder how easily the woman before him could arouse him. Was she a succubus that commanded his lust? No, it was much more than lust. It had to be.

He had seen and heard and tasted lust before, and this was nothing like it.

With great regret, he pulled away from the kiss and leaned his forehead against her as they both gasped for breath. Evan was grasping for his sanity.

"Why did you stop?" she voiced in complaint.

"Because I did not want to go too far."

"But I wanted you to go further!"

Dammit, so do I!Evan wanted to howl in frustration. Instead, he caressed her bottom lip, now swollen by his kiss. "My dearest lady, I would not take you like a common doxy out here."

"What if I wanted to be taken like a common doxy?"

Heaven help him, but the Lady was pushing his restraint beyond its limits! It was the only thing keeping him from flipping over her skirts and having his way with her.

But still, he did not want her first time to be out her in the garden. He also felt that as much as it frustrated him, he would like to wait.

The challenge was almost lost on him. He barely even remembered it.

"Waiting will make it all the more special for us both," he told her softly.

"Then, what do you suggest we do to alleviate what I am feeling?" she demanded, her eyes blazing with impatience.

Had it been any other willing woman, he would have taken her to a more comfortable place and slaked his lusts on her, but this was Lady Amy, and she deserved more than that.

His thoughts were in a state of disarray when she leaned into him and inadvertently grasped the hardness between his legs. Evan let out a soft growl at the sensation.

Perhaps... perhaps they could do something.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her. It would be all right if she did not. He was perfectly fine with working for her trust…

"Of course."

Those two soft words proved to be his undoing.

Gently, he led her to the bench and sat down with her on his lap, her back propped against the back of the bench. For all her voluptuous curves, she felt lighter than a feather to him.

"I am going to kiss you," he told her softly. "And then, I am going to touch you. If you feel unease at any moment, you may stop me."

"Will you stop if I ask you to?"

He nodded. "Yes." As painful as it will be for me.

"And if I want to touch you?"

"You may do that as well."

Her lips curved into a seductive smile. "Good. Because I want to do that, too."

What a saucy minx she was! Was there no end to the troubles she got into?

This time, he laughed hoarsely as he drew her head down for a kiss. However, as his lips slid seductively over hers, his hand did not remain idle, moving from her back to her chest, feeling the soft flesh under his palm.

Lady Amy opened to him with a soft moan, and he plunged his tongue into the cavern of her mouth, tasting her deeply. When her own tongue touched his, Evan feared he would go mad.

But he knew he must keep his wits about him, for he was resolved to make this as pleasant as possible for her. He squeezed her breast lightly, and she responded by arching her body into his touch. Her derriere moved against his hardness, and he groaned in delight.

He pulled at the strings that held her shift closed at the front before his hands managed to free one breast from its confines. Gently, he flicked his thumb across its peak and watched as Lady Amy came undone in his arms. When he leaned in to fasten his mouth over that turgid flesh, she cried out, her hands spearing into his hair.

"Your Grace!" she gasped. "Oh, Your Grace!"

"Evan," he told her. "I want you to call me by my name."

She nodded enthusiastically, and he laughed as he returned to kissing her breast while his other hand wandered down to the side of her hip. He bunched the fabric under his hand and began to lift her shift, slowly exposing her legs to the night air.

She wiggled even more on his lap, and he closed his eyes at the delicious torture of her moving against his painfully hardened arousal.

But tonight was not about him... he wanted to make this all about her pleasure.

He caressed her smooth thigh hovering over the apex where his fingers teased the curls that guarded her most intimate parts.

"Open up for me, Amy," he urged her. "I only want to pleasure you..."

He found her pliant, her legs falling open for him, and he nearly lost his mind when he felt her petals soft and wet for him.

"Evan... oh, Evan!" she wept.

"You feel absolutely perfect, my darling," he crooned. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No! Do go on..." she mewled. "Please... please, Evan!"

He needed no further urging as he slid his fingers into her slick folds, stroking her gently as he watched her come undone in his arms—and what a beautiful sight she was! Her brown hair falling down her shoulders, her cheeks flushed with passion, her lips still swollen from his kisses.

Evan was certain he had never before seen a more beautiful picture in his entire life.

He explored her depths with expert ease, even as he held himself back, happy to just watch her enjoy his ministrations. He found the center of her pleasure and gently swirled his finger around the little bud.

"Evan... oh, it feels so good!" she moaned, throwing her head back in rapturous delight.

He grinned triumphantly as he kissed her breast again while continuing to stroke her. Her beautiful body began to thrash in his arms, but he held her firmly while he teased and sucked her. Finally, with a sharp cry, she crested that final wave, her body shuddering before she went limp in his arms.

Evan gently extracted his hand from between her legs and pulled her skirt down to cover her. He also pulled her neckline up so that he might be spared from the tempting sight of her breast. Gently, he held her close to him as she rode out the aftermath of pleasure.

"Wh-what was that?" she asked him dazedly.

He kissed her temple and murmured, "That, dearest, was your first taste of the pleasure between a man and woman."

She sighed. "And I always thought it was going to be unpleasant. I have heard women always speak of it as a duty to their husbands..."

There was a hint of derision in her voice that Evan did not miss.

"It does not have to be so unpleasant," he told her, "as you have just experienced."

"B-but what about you?" she asked him, shyly tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "How does it feel for you?"

"I am pleased that you found it wonderful," he replied, and that was the truth. There was a certain pride and joy he found in seeing her in the throes of pleasure, knowing he did that to her.

"Can I not do the same for you?"

Evan laughed hoarsely at that. "No, my dear lady. I would rather wait. The waiting makes it all the more special."

"It sounds like a delayed reward."

"Of a sort."

She curled into him and smiled happily. "I like that it was with you, Evan," she murmured. "I trust you to take good care of me."

Evan stiffened at her words before holding her close and pressing a soft kiss to her hair. She trusted him. It filled him with a happiness that went beyond lust, beyond desire.

They were hurtling towards something more than the stupid challenge that Benedict had set out for him—at least, for Evan, it felt that way.

Instead of cursing his damned best friend, maybe he should be thanking him after all...