In the Prince’s Bed by Sabrina Jeffries (8)

Chapter Fifteen

He knows what he’s doing, Katherine repeated to herself as Alec circled back toward her. He won’t hurt you, he won’t.

Now, if she could just convince her hand. She couldn’t keep it still. The half a pear looked so small. But if she gripped it any closer to the edge, she’d drop it. Probably just as he went to skewer it, and then he’d skewer her hand instead.

She was supposed to lift the pear to her mouth, right? Lift the pear, she ordered her hand.

It ignored her. Apparently, her fingers balked at being chopped off.

Too late—he was here, sword in hand…rising up in the stirrups…coming nearer…nearer…Wait, why was he leaning out like that?

Before she could react, he bent his head to snatch the pear with his mouth.

The crowd clapped, but she just stood there bewildered as he continued the circuit. She watched as he thrust his sword into the sawdust. What should she do? Run after him as they’d originally planned? But he wasn’t leaving the arena, so that would look silly. Of course, this was supposed to be funny…

Then he was approaching her again with the pear half still gripped in his mouth, and next thing she knew, she was soaring aloft, being hoisted into the air onto the front of the extra-deep trick saddle.

She threw her arms about his neck to keep from falling, which sent the crowd into wild applause until Mr. França’s quickly improvised patter broke in. “Will Mrs. Black forgive her wayward husband?” he called out as the audience fell silent to hear him. “Or will she send him packing?”

She and Alec were making another slow circuit of the ring. Eyes alight with mischief, Alec offered her the pear half with his mouth. Compelled forward by the invitation in his hot blue gaze, she bit into the fruit, bringing their lips together in a kiss.

The crowd roared, loving a good romance. She heard them cheering even after Alec exited through the back doors with her in his arms and his mouth pressed to hers around the pear half.

Behind the amphitheatre was a hive of activity as horses lined up and riders put the finishing touches to their costumes, preparing for the big finale, but Katherine hardly noticed as Alec reined in with her still clinging to his neck.

He bit down, breaking the pear in half again, then drew back and chewed his quarter, his eyes smoldering at her as she chewed hers, too, and swallowed. His gaze followed the motion of her throat, then darkened, and before she could even think, his mouth was on hers, kissing her deeply, hotly…thoroughly.

She didn’t care. Her blood still thrummed from the excitement of the ring and the thrill of performing with him. Straining against him, she returned his kiss eagerly, nearly knocking off her mask. She tasted pear juice on his tongue, sweetening their kiss even more as she twined her tongue with his to seek the deepest sweetness.

Heedless of the performers around them, he kissed her as blatantly as a lover, lingering over her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers, making her so dizzy that she—

“Sorry, sir, but we need the horse.”

They broke apart, with Alec looking as dazed as she felt. Then they both glanced down to find a groom tugging on the reins of Alec’s mount.

The groom smirked up at them. “For the finale. We need the horse.”

As Katherine blushed furiously, Alec dismounted, then reached up to lift her down beside him.

Even after the groom led the horse away, Alec kept his hands firmly on her waist. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you back there in the ring when I—”

“No,” she whispered, still breathless from their kiss.

A faint smile played over his lips. “I could tell you were nervous about letting me skewer the pear, so I improvised.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You broke my rules about kissing.”

His eyes glittered in the light of the field lamps. “That’s what happens when you give me rules.” With a grin, he tugged her closer and lowered his head. “I have to go out of my way to break them.”

With a laugh, she wriggled out of his arms and headed toward the outbuilding where she’d changed clothes earlier. “Rather publicly, don’t you think?”

Catching up to her, he laid his hand possessively on the small of her back. “Were there other people there? I didn’t notice.”

Another laugh bubbled up inside her. “You really are incorrigible.”

“And you’re magnificent.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Am I?” she asked coyly.

What was wrong with her? She was never coy. It must be the cursed costume—it made her feel like someone else, someone free to answer the invitation in his eyes. She reached up to remove her mask, then thought better of it. People still milled around who might connect her with the lady who’d come out here with Lord Iversley.

“I can’t think of any other woman who would adapt so quickly to performing,” Alec said. “You were wonderful. And the audience loved you—I wasn’t the only one eating out of your hand.”

She eyed him askance. “I hardly think my little pantomiming compared to your spectacular riding. No wonder Wellington wanted you to train his cavalry.” She straightened her mask. “I do wish I could ride like that.”

His hand swept up her back. “I meant what I said about teaching you. You’re a good rider. You could master the easier tricks without any trouble.”

“If I had the horse for it.” She sighed. “Even if I did, Mama would never allow it. It’s one thing for me to do something like this on a whim—it’s quite another to make a practice of it.”

“But you won’t always be under your mother’s control. If you marry me, you can do as you please.”

Her head shot around, her gaze locking with his. With a dark smile, he slid his arm to encircle her waist, but before he could do more, the maid who’d dressed Katherine earlier came running up to them from the nearby outbuilding. “Sorry, miss, but I can’t help you dress just now. I have to help the others with the finale.”

“It’s all right,” Katherine said. “I can manage on my own.”

The maid turned to Alec. “And forgive me, sir, but we need your uniform. We can make do without the breeches and Hessians, but—”

“No problem.” Alec removed the plumed hat thing, then stripped off the blue jacket, black stock, and red-and-gold sash of a dragoon officer. “Senhora Encantador is used to theatrical necessity, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He handed the uniform to the maid.

“Of course,” Katherine choked out, the sight of him in shirtsleeves making it hard for her to breathe. “But you do look dashing in it.”

“Any man looks dashing in a uniform,” he retorted.

But no other man could look like Alec, in a uniform or out. Even after the maid scurried off, Katherine couldn’t stop staring at him in his thin linen shirt and form-fitting white breeches, his collar hanging open to reveal a few dark chest hairs.

Goodness, but he was one fine figure of a man. There’d certainly been no padding beneath his coat, nor did his shirt appear to hide stays like the ones Papa had worn to hold in his thick belly. It was all pure Alec.

Pure, handsome, tempting Alec.

He knew what he did to her, too, the rascal. As she stared at him, desire leaped in his face. Opening the door to the outbuilding, he pulled her inside and closed the door. The light of the single low-burning lamp revealed a completely deserted dressing room.

Everyone was in the finale except them. She and Alec were alone.

Her heart skipped a beat as he drew her into his arms, then reached for her mask.

“No,” she whispered, staying his hand. “Let me be Senhora Encantador a while longer.” Senhora Encantador could kiss him without reproach, whereas Miss Merivale could not. “Who chose my stage name, anyway?”

“I did.” He cupped her head in his hands. “It’s Portuguese.”

As he lowered his mouth, her breath quickened. “What does it mean?”

“Enchanter,” he said in a husky whisper. “It means ‘enchanter.’ ”

Then he sealed her lips with his.

She rose to his kiss without protest. He was a cavalry officer, and she was the reckless Senhora Encantador, who wore daringly cut costumes and kissed a man in front of everybody.

Besides, who could resist a man who called her “the enchanter” even though he professed to hate poetry? Especially when he commanded her mouth as if the kiss were his due. Over and over he plundered her lips, first tenderly, then ardently, fiercely, until she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but slide her arms about his waist to pull him closer.

The taste of pears mingled with the scent of horses and leather to fill her senses. Not even the muted sounds of the performers milling beyond the door could dampen her excitement.

When at last Alec drew back, she was too dazed to notice him reaching for her mask again. “I want to see your face, sweetheart,” he murmured as he tossed the mask onto a nearby table heaped high with bonnets, combs, and other feminine paraphernalia. “Though I must admit I like you as Senhora Encantador. And even better as Mrs. Black.”

“Don’t let Mama hear you say that,” she said, trying for nonchalance. “It’s Lady Iversley or nothing.”

The intensity of his gaze made her heart flip over. “Then Lady Iversley it is.”

When he bent his head toward her once more, she pressed him back, determined to get some answers. “Do you mean that?”

“Why won’t you believe me?”

Her pulse thundered in time to the horses’ hooves outside as the company rode into the arena. “Why did you say a week ago that this courtship was only for Sydney’s benefit?”

“You were ready to toss me out on my ear again, and I couldn’t figure out any other way to stay close to you.” His eyes shone like blue flames. “Why do you think I came to London in the first place? To find a wife. Believe me, from the night we met, it was marriage I wanted.”

“You wanted to seduce me,” she breathed, though she grew less certain of that by the moment.

He smiled. “I wanted both. Because I can’t keep my hands off you.” To prove it, he slid his hands back to tangle them in her scandalously undone hair.

A wanton heat settled low in her belly. “Y-You should go. I have to dress. Mama will wonder what is taking us so long back here.”

He bent his head to kiss a path down her neck. “We’ll tell her we decided to watch the finale from behind the scenes.” He nipped her earlobe. “Come now, where’s Senhora Encantador, the shameless woman with the beautiful hair?”

She shot him a skeptical look. “Mama calls it my ‘unfortunate hair.’ And Sydney thinks it’s so bold I should cover it up with a turban.”

“Don’t you dare.” As he stroked her unruly locks, the raw need burning in his eyes was unmistakable. “I’ve wanted to see it down like this ever since we first met. I’ve wanted to touch it, to run my fingers through it…”

When he did just that, a shiver of pleasure coursed through her. Wrapping a hank of it around his hand, he kissed it, then tugged it to draw her close so he could press a slow, sweet kiss to her mouth.

Then he shifted his lips to her cheek and entangled both his hands in her hair to hold her fast. “The only unfortunate thing about your hair is that you have to keep it pinned up.” He trailed warm, openmouthed kisses over her cheek to her ear. “Once we’re married, you can wear it down as much as you please.”

“I haven’t agreed to marry you yet, you know,” she whispered.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t really…know you.”

“You know me well enough.” He laved her ear with his tongue.

She shivered deliciously. “Until tonight, I didn’t know you at all.” She drew back to stare at him. “Why did you let me think you were so wicked?”

His hungry gaze bored into her. “As I recall, I tried to tell you otherwise. You refused to believe me.” A rakish grin crossed his lips. “Besides, I am wicked. At least when it comes to you.”

He slid his hand beneath the edge of her bodice and chemise to caress her bare shoulder, then added in a whisper, “And you’re wicked, too, when it comes to me…Senhora Encantador.” Her pulse went positively mad as he trailed kisses over her neck.

“Senhora Encantador…disappeared when you removed…her mask,” she choked out.

“Are you sure?” Still kissing her neck, he pushed her gown off her shoulder. “Or is she just hiding behind the proper Miss Merivale?”

He was kissing her shoulder, fogging her brain, making her dizzy from the sensation of his mouth caressing her bare skin in a place no man would dare to touch. “I suppose you’ve been with many…senhoras?”

“Not as many as most gentlemen. There aren’t many senhoras in a cavalry camp.” He dragged one finger down her throat, into the valley between her breasts. “And certainly none so intriguing as Senhora Encantador.”

When his finger lodged beneath her bodice, she caught her breath. “Is that who you really want—the senhora?”

“I want Miss Merivale, but she refuses to be reckless and wicked with me. Perhaps the senhora could show her how?”

The idea intrigued and excited her. Now he was kissing his way down her collarbone toward her bodice…and her breasts. Would he kiss her there? Like in the pictures from the Rhetorick? Would it be even better than his caresses there the day of the reading?

A wild fever flashed over her at the thought. “Suppose you happened to be alone…with the senhora. What would you do with that wicked creature? Hypothetically, of course.”

He lifted his head, eyes gleaming in the dim lamplight. “Hypothetically?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

Taking her by surprise, he lifted her in his arms.

“What on earth are you doing?” Katherine grabbed at his neck to hold on as he carried her off between the open bureaus, past a scarf-draped dressmaker’s dummy, toward the back of the outbuilding.

He cast her a smile rampant with mischief. “I’m taking the senhora to where we can be more comfortable.”

A laugh escaped her. “This isn’t hypothetical.”

“I need the right setting for…speculating.” He laid her on a pile of discarded costumes and cloaks, then stretched out beside her. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, determining what I would do to Senhora Encantador, that reckless female.” He grinned as he propped his head up on one arm, then laid the other over her waist. “Hypothetically, of course.”

“Of course,” she whispered.

One shoulder of her gown still hung down her arm, and now he snagged the shoulder of her chemise and tugged it down, too. “First, I’d do this,” he murmured, as her breast scandalously sprang free. “And then this…” He molded her naked breast in his hot palm.

Lord preserve her, it was every bit as wonderful as she remembered, every bit as naughty and thrilling. Which was why she ought to stop him. “Wouldn’t the senhora…protest such…liberties?”

“Not at all. She would expect it from her latest lover.”

“What if you were her first lover?”

A fierce desire leaped in his face. “Then I’d have to be more careful with her…make sure I taught her how to find her pleasure. Hypothetically, of course.”

“Of course,” she whispered, then gasped when he thumbed her nipple, sending a delicious excitement pulsing along her heightened nerves. She dug her fingers into his shirt. “The senhora is very wicked, isn’t she?”

“Curious,” he corrected her. “Adventurous. The sort of woman who will participate in an equestrian exhibition without a qualm.”

Which had whetted her appetite for more adventures. With him. And he knew it, too. Why else was he lowering his head and taking her breast in his mouth to …ohhhh, yes…like that…goodness, what a feeling…

His tongue swirled over her nipple, tightening it into a knot of aching need. She fisted her hands in the night-dark waves of his hair to hold him there, and his mouth grew ravenous, sucking hard, making her squirm and yearn to feel it in other, more outrageous places—like in that naughty picture…

Oh, she was as bad as him…and she didn’t even care. This was the most thrilling thing that had ever happened to her.

The naive country girl can provide a nice change for the jaded rake’s palate.

When those horrible words from the Rake’s Rhetorick spilled into her mind, she thrust them out determinedly. Alec wasn’t a rake—he wanted to marry her. He’d made that very clear.

“You taste so damned good,” he murmured as he lifted his head. “And I’ve wanted to taste and touch you like this for so long.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “And when do I get to taste and touch you?” She was not a naive country girl he wanted for his “jaded palate.” She was not.

Alec reacted instantly to her bold words; heat leaped in his face as he sat up. “Whenever you please, senhora.” He dragged his shirt off so quickly that his cuff buttons popped off. “Now, if you want.”

Katherine’s mouth went dry. Lord preserve her, he was every bit as handsome as those strutting men in the pictures—thickly muscled, leanly built, and hairy.

She was still drinking in the astonishing sight of him bare-chested when he lay back down, grabbed her hand, and flattened it on his chest. “I would give a king’s ransom to have you touch me.”

The yearning in his face convinced her as nothing else could have.

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his chest, reveling in his sharp intake of breath. Remembering how good his mouth on her breast had felt, she swirled her tongue around his flat male nipple. “And what will you give me for tasting you, Captain Black?” she teased.

With a growl, he pressed her head to his chest and closed his eyes. “Anything you want, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

Further emboldened, Katherine took her time exploring his chest, marveling at how the rough velvet of his flesh leaped and flexed when she flicked her tongue or stroked her fingers over it.

The senhora had taken her over, and she had no will to fight her. The whole night already seemed like one long dream, and the unfamiliar scents of sawdust and leather on his skin added to her feeling of unreality. Not even the muffled drumbeats coming from the amphitheatre could drag her from the heady spell.

Until his hand caught the hem of her gown and dragged it up to bare her thighs. Coming to her senses in a rush of panic, she jerked her head from his chest.

“Alec, you mustn’t—”

“I only want to touch you.” His hot blue gaze seared her. “A little touching, that’s all.” He skimmed his hand up the inside of her thighs, making her gasp. “Don’t you want to see what I’d do next to Senhora Encantador? Hypothetically?”

Frantically, she tried to hang on to her objections. It wasn’t easy when her skin felt too tight for her body, every inch alive and alert to his amazing caresses. “This goes…beyond hypothetical.”

His hand slid inexorably higher. “Then call it a sample. Of what I would do.” He smiled impishly when his fingers brushed the slit in her drawers. “Put yourself in the senhora’s place and tell me how she’d like my sample.”

A laugh bubbled up inside her throat that she firmly squelched, not wanting to encourage his naughty behavior. “Sample, hah. That’s just rhetoric.”

“If you say so.” He slid his hand inside her drawers. “You’re the one who knows such things. I’m but a simple man with simple pleasures.”

“There’s nothing simple about—” His hand cupped the warm, throbbing place between her thighs as if he’d guessed exactly where she craved his touch. “Ohh…that’s…truly…outrageous…”

“Would the senhora like that, do you think?” His fingers fondled her shamelessly, sweeping through her tangled curls to find the hidden tender flesh.

She gasped when he pressed against some delicate spot that sent the blood beating in her veins in time to the drums sounding more loudly from the amphitheatre. “The senhora would…certainly like…that.”

With a devilish smile, he bent his head to brush a kiss to her breast. “Are you sure? You seem very agitated by it.”

“Because…ohh, what…are you…doing to me?”

“Showing you how I would touch the senhora.” His finger slid along the slick flesh of her most intimate place, then delved deep between the folds.

She grabbed for his arm in shock. “Alec!”

“Yes, senhora? Do you like my sample?” Ignoring her grip on his arm, he repeated that devilish driving motion with his finger. When she moaned, he cast her a knowing smile. “Those sounds you’re making say you do.” He stroked her deftly. “Does this please you?”

“Yes.” It made her ache and yearn…and want him never to stop touching her in the shameless and exhilarating way he touched her now.

“Do you…would the senhora…want more?” he asked hoarsely as he thrust his finger inside her over and over, his thumb caressing that tender spot higher up.

“Please, Alec…please…” she choked out, scarcely noticing that her hand had fallen away from his arm.

“Please what?” His strokes grew bolder, hotter, melting her resistance away with their sheer heat. “Please stop? Or please give you more?”

Please stop. “Please…more,” she whispered.

With a growl of satisfaction, he took her mouth in a long, searching kiss, all the while stroking between her legs so adroitly that he soon had her gasping and undulating wantonly against his clever hand.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he tore his lips free to whisper against her hot cheek. “Reach for your pleasure. It’s there for you. Relax and let it come.”

She barely heard the words, too caught up in the incredible tension coiling right where his fingers rubbed and fondled. It tightened as his strokes quickened, until she was writhing beneath him and wanting…needing…longing…

The explosion of heat took her off guard, wringing a hoarse cry from her lips. As the burst of flames devoured her, then slowly died to smoldering embers, she melted into the nest of costumes. Her eyes closed in rapt contentment as she held on to the last bit of wanton warmth.

A mock battle still raged inside the amphitheatre, but out here, a comfortable peace stole over her. “What…what did you…do to me?” she whispered.

“Pleasured you, that’s all.”

If the woman resists, pleasure her well to bring her willingly to your bed.

Wincing, she cursed The Rake’s Rhetorick for poisoning her enjoyment. She opened her eyes to search Alec’s face. His expression was strained, his jaw taut as he hovered over her.

“And is that all…you intend to do to me?” she couldn’t help asking.

Deliberately, he drew his hand from between her thighs and tugged her skirts down. “For now. I don’t deflower innocents.” He bent to kiss her breast so tenderly, it made her heart leap. “But once we’re married…”

He left the promise dangling in the air between them, rousing a feverish anticipation. The very idea of the liberties he might take with her as a husband sent heat washing over her, starting at her cheeks, flashing to the breasts he’d caressed so wildly, then moving lower to the still-throbbing place between her legs.

She tamped down her excitement firmly. This was no time to get carried away. These were serious matters they were discussing, no matter how eager her body was to throw caution to the wind.

Sitting up, she tugged her chemise over her breasts. “I still haven’t agreed to marry you. You haven’t really even asked me.”

He sat up, too, looking earnest and infinitely dear. “All right, I’m asking you now. Will you marry me, Katherine?”

Her foolish heart leaped to hear the actual words, but she forced herself to respond rationally. “Why do you want me to?”

That seemed to flummox him, but his gaze steadied on hers. “Because you’re the only woman I can ever imagine marrying.”

She swallowed. He hadn’t spoken of love, but neither had she. Given the choice between Sydney, who said he loved her but acted otherwise, and Alec, who treated her as if he did without saying the words, she might be better off with Alec.

You barely know him, her good sense cautioned. You can’t even be sure of his character.

But all of that faded to nothing when he was with her, when he kissed and fondled her, when he rode up on a Thoroughbred to snatch a piece of pear out of her hand rather than risk hurting her, or halted his seductions because he didn’t deflower innocents.

“Yes,” she whispered before she could regret it. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Good,” was all he said, but he leaned forward to punctuate the word with a long, searing kiss that roused her blood yet again.

When she wrapped her hands about his waist, he groaned and drew back. “We have to stop this.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Listen.”

When she did as he bade, she heard a rising hubbub in the field beyond the outbuilding that signaled the end of the final performance.

“They’ll be trying to get in here any minute,” he said. “You don’t want them to find us together like this, do you?”

Her face flamed, both at the possibility and at the fact that only he had thought of it. “Of course not.”

The sounds in the field increased, and he rose swiftly. “Thank God I latched the front door.” He snagged his shirt and drew it over his head, then held out his hand to help her up. “I’ll take the back way out, while you stay in your chemise. They’ll assume that you took off your costume unassisted, but couldn’t put on your gown without help.”

Feeling useless and bereft, she watched him stride about the room, making sure nothing was amiss and no evidence of their scandalous encounter remained.

“Tonight I’ll speak to your mother,” he went on. “Tomorrow I’ll send the announcement to the papers. I can procure a special license—”

“Alec,” she broke in. “Don’t speak to Mama tonight about our marrying.”

He froze, then faced her warily. “Why not?”

“I’d like to tell Sydney first.”

His eyes glittered dangerously as he strode up to her. “Send him a letter. Better yet, let him read it in the paper. He’s a poet—I’m told they read a lot.”

She bit back a smile. “I’ve been half-betrothed to him most of my life. He at least deserves the courtesy of hearing about my engagement in person.”

“I see.” A muscle worked in his jaw as he glanced away. “So how long will you make me wait? He’s in the country, and you don’t know when he’ll return.”

“Lord Napier’s estate is only a short ride from London. I’ll call on Sydney’s mother tomorrow to find out the direction, then send a message saying I want to see him. If he doesn’t come in a few days, then we can assume we’re free to announce the marriage.”

He scowled at her. “We are free. You’re the only one saying otherwise.”

He looked so delightfully grumpy about the whole thing, she couldn’t help smiling. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous, you know.”

His rigid features slowly relaxed, though he grumbled, “Adorable, am I? Next you’ll tell me I’m sweet.”

“You are sweet.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Most of the time.”

Drawing her close, he kissed her roughly, brazenly, his hands roaming her body as if to mark his claim. When he pulled back, her heart was racing.

“And the rest of the time?” he rasped. “What am I then?”

“The only man I can ever imagine marrying.”

Relief showed in his eyes as he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “How in God’s name will I wait until after we marry to make you mine? I can hardly bear to leave you now.”

The sincerity of his tone warmed her heart, making her smile and lean into him. With a sigh, he lowered his head toward her lips again, but the sound of the door rattling, followed by a loud knock, made him release her.

“Blast. I have to go. If they can’t get in the front, they’ll come to the back and I’ll be trapped.”

The door rattled again. “Miss?” came a worried voice. “Are you in there?”

“I’m here!” Katherine turned to the door to call out. “I’m coming.”

When she turned back to tell Alec she would see him outside, he was gone.