Chapter 10

Portia had sneaked out of the house at night before. Back in Wiltshire, she often went out to collect a hurt or mistreated animal. Always with one of the servants. Usually Rankin. He came in handy if she encountered any ruffians, although around Afton Park, her status as Lord Portdown's daughter was protection in itself.

Never before had she sneaked out to meet a lover.

Not that Alaric was her lover yet.

Her heart raced like a greyhound after a rabbit when she hurried across to the grove of trees in the center of the square. She hoped to heaven that Alaric was there already. She was nervous tonight in a way that she hadn't been nervous on her previous nocturnal adventures.

When a hand caught her arm, a squeak of terror escaped her.

"It's me," a familiar voice murmured, as he drew her into the shadows. Mere days ago, that voice would have left her unmoved. Now it made her wayward heart falter, before it set off on another headlong gallop.

"Thank heaven," she whispered jerkily. "I mean, I wasn't expecting anyone else, but it's so quiet and dark, and my mind was playing tricks on me so everything looked like someone lying in wait, then I…" She waved her hand in an apologetic gesture that he wouldn't see. "I'm sorry. I'm babbling. It's just that—"

"You're on edge."

"I am." She sucked in another breath as panic subsided, which was mad when it would be worse to be found with the Duke of Granville than on her own.

He drew her deeper into the copse. "Pretend I'm a lost dog."

That made her stifle a laugh. "For a man with no sense of humor, you're pretty funny."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," he said ruefully.

"Neither am I." When something bumped against her skirts, she gave a muffled gasp. "You brought Jupiter?"

She gave the dog a welcoming pat, as she listened to Alaric's fond sigh. "He still won't leave my side. Matty is having an easy time of it."

They'd stopped in the darkest part of the grove. She could barely make out either Jupiter or his master, although she was far too conscious of the duke's nearness. The square was deserted. Most of the parties and balls wouldn't finish until around two.

"Let Matty feed him for a few days while you watch on. It will confirm that Matty's part of his pack. Part of your pack, too. You are, after all, the top dog."

That made him laugh. She thought it would. "If you say so."

"Dukes are the top dogs in society, too."

"I don't want to talk about Jupiter."

Her stomach knotted with wicked yearning. Her breath jammed in her throat, although if she was honest, she didn't want to talk about Jupiter right now either.

"What would you like to talk about?" she asked in an unsteady voice.

When his grip on her arm tightened, a thrill rippled through her. "I don't want to talk at all."

Portia swayed closer to catch the intriguing drift of spicy masculine scent. "What would you like to do instead?"

"This."

Portia couldn't pretend to be surprised when he lashed his arms about her and kissed her. She'd teetered, trapped on the edge of tumbling over a cliff, ever since he'd kissed her in his bedroom last night.

Now the heat of his lips set her free to soar. She made a faint sound of surrender and twined her hands around his neck. Her fingers raked through his silky hair and dug into his scalp to bring him closer.

This kiss conveyed no hesitation. When his tongue slid between her lips, she sucked on it. He gave a soft growl of approval. Strange how much these animal sounds could express. Pleasure. Surrender. Desire.

Portia arched, pressing her aching breasts to his powerful chest. She wanted him to touch her there. A blameless lifetime had crumbled to nothing over little more than twenty-four turbulent hours.

She wanted him to touch her everywhere. Especially where heat pulsed between her legs.

Their tongues shared a frenzied dance that made her senses reel. He stroked her back, venturing lower until he caught her buttocks and lifted her against him. She gasped into his mouth, as his hardness rubbed against her stomach.

After measureless bliss, he lifted his head without moving away.

"How do you do that?" she whispered.

"Kiss you?" She couldn't see him smile, but she knew he did. "All too easily, I'm afraid."

"No." She struggled to express his extraordinary effect on her. "I mean the way you touch me and the whole world disappears. There's nothing but you and me and what we do together."

She heard his breath catch, before he proved the truth of what she'd said by kissing her again. With a passion that made her head spin and her knees quake. She clung to his broad shoulders and rode the storm.

"Alaric…" she sighed, then nothing more. He'd stolen her capacity to link words into something that made sense.

"I know," he murmured before sending her off into another spin with a quick kiss.

When he raised his head, she couldn't contain a whimper of disappointment.

"I want to kiss you and kiss you." The declaration's softness didn't conceal the depths of his frustration.

"But we're not safe here." As if to confirm the fact, a carriage rattled into the square and stopped in front of the Comerford house. When she shifted closer, Alaric's arms tightened in a wordless gesture of protection. She shouldn't feel safer, but somehow she did.

"No, we're not," he said, sounding somber. He rested his chin on top of her head. "Which is why I want you to myself."

"Can we manage it?" She didn't try and hide her eagerness.

"Can you get away?"

"I've been thinking." That was an understatement. Her mind had been in a furore since she'd seen Alaric this morning in the park.

"Can Rankin help?"

"It's fairer to keep him out of this."

"You're asking him to do more than drive you around London while you look for stray dogs."

"Much more. He's been with the family forever, but even so, he'd lose his place if Papa found out that he'd taken me to meet a lover. And honestly, I'm thinking of Papa, too. It would kill him to weather another scandal."

"I also promised that I'd keep you from harm. As far as I can."

That proviso was very like Alaric. After those ravishing kisses, she had no doubt that he wanted her. But he wasn't concealing what an affair could end up costing them.

Portia made herself bring up a topic that she never thought she'd need to discuss with anyone, particularly her sister's former suitor. "I don't…I don't want to have a baby."

She was ashamed to admit that was a blatant lie. The idea of carrying Alaric's child was all too tempting. But she couldn't endure the thought of bearing a baby out of wedlock.

The air she breathed was tinged with his scent. Leather and soap and some mysterious essence that was purely him. For a delicious moment, she buried her nose in his shirtfront.

"I'll do my best." His voice rumbled out of his chest.

"There are ways?"

However much Juliet had told her about copulation, much remained a mystery. Even knowing the basics hadn't given her the first idea of how overwhelming it felt to desire a man and have him desire her in return. Her imagination couldn't extend to how she'd feel when Alaric joined his body to hers. Which didn't stop her muscles cramping with excitement.

"Yes, there are."

She tried to see him, but darkness defeated her. "Ways that will still give you pleasure?"

"Yes." He sounded sure.

"I'm glad. I want to give you pleasure."

"You will. You do. Oh, hell." He kissed her again with more intent. By the time they drew apart, Portia struggled to stand. She was grateful for Alaric's hands on her waist.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"Not when you kiss me."

With a chuckle, he shifted behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "We're both going to get pneumonia, if we keep meeting like this."

Portia smiled, even as she was appalled at how little genuine horror her impending ruin stirred. She leaned back into his body. She was a tall woman, but Alaric was taller, so she fitted perfectly against his long, powerful body. "We can't have that."

"No, I have a country to run. And a dog to walk."

Jupiter had disappeared into the bushes. Occasional rustles from the undergrowth said he hadn't gone far. Of course he hadn't. He was almost as besotted with the Duke of Granville as she was.

She stared into the night, as the effect of Alaric's sizzling kisses receded to a lazy tide. "My old governess covers for me when I go out on rescue missions."

"Will she countenance you taking a lover? Would she help us?"

Portia frowned as she considered Mary Hudson. She'd been a strict but affectionate teacher, and she was independent-minded enough to approve of Portia saving neglected animals. Would she conspire in her former pupil surrendering her maidenhead to a man to whom she wasn't wed? Portia very much doubted it.

"Does she have to know? If I tell her I'm leaving town for a few days to collect a dog, she'll believe me. It's happened before."

Mary would believe her because Portia had always been honest. She hoped to goodness that she turned into a convincing liar in the next few days.

She snuggled closer. "When I stay with Mary, I never take Aunt Mabel or my maid. There's no room for them. Mary won't question why I'm sneaking out. She'll assume I'm meeting Rankin somewhere discreet."

"That might work."

"It can only be for a couple of days." Regret edged her voice. "Even Papa would start asking questions if I disappear for too long."

Alaric settled her more comfortably. There was something so pleasurable about having a man's warm arms around her on a cold night. "I promised I'd look after your reputation. If a few days are all you can manage, that's what we'll do."

He didn't sound as if he minded. That stung, when she already knew that their time away would rush by.

Or perhaps he planned on more than one tryst. The thought made her boggle. She'd been in such a commotion that she hadn't thought beyond going to his bed the first time. Was she entering a life of continuing intrigue? "When?"

The word brought their negotiations into stark relief. Was she really going to do this outrageous thing?

Alaric, too, must realize that they reached a crossroads because his hold firmed. "I'm at your disposal."

She licked her lips, as nerves pinged and ricocheted in her stomach. "I think…I think you need a few days to get Jupiter settled in Matty's care."

"We don't want him howling down the house again."

She gave a horrified gasp of laughter. "No, we do not."

"Tuesday?"

That gave her almost a week. "I need to be back for Friday night. I promised I'd attend the Bilsons' ball."

"I've accepted an invitation to that, too."

Another shaky laugh escaped. More the result of burgeoning dread than amusement. "We'll have to make sure that nobody guesses we no longer dislike each other."

"No kisses on the dance floor?"

She gulped back a giggle. "None."

"How will I survive? Will you at least dance with me? A waltz?"

"I'll look at you like Jupiter does."

"While we're away, you can practice looking bored to tears."

This time the giggle escaped. "Anything else will set tongues wagging."

Another carriage rolled into the square and stopped in front of the house that her father had rented for the season. "I have to go, Alaric. That will be Papa, which means the house will be locked up in the next hour."

Alaric's arms tightened. The voice rasping in her ear betrayed a frustration that might even outstrip hers. "I don't want to let you go."

"I don't want to go. Ooh!"

He'd run his teeth along a nerve in her neck that until now she hadn't known was there. Sensation whipped through her and made her toes curl. "You must, damn it."

She struggled for breath. "Will I see you tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. I hope it's foggy again."

"So do I."

It was time to go. More than time. She needed to be careful until Tuesday, just in case Papa decided to pay more attention than usual to her activities.

But it was the same as last night. She and Alaric planned sin, but the greatest sin seemed to be parting from him.

"Kiss me, then go," he said in a gruff voice. "Or else, heaven help me, I'll sweep you away to my bed and to the devil with propriety and papas."

Blindly, Portia turned in his arms and pressed her mouth to his. The first time that she'd kissed him off her own initiative. Immediate heat and desire swamped her. A promise of wonders next Tuesday.