Page 61 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
Chapter Twenty-Two
Luke sat on the grass, leaning against the wall of the stables as he watched Alison approaching, creeping over the grass to stop her feet crunching on the gravel, making her way to Luke’s single, flickering candle.
She threw her arms around him when she arrived, and he pulled her in tightly, inhaling her scent and whispering sweet words into her ear.
“My Love,” he said. “My Darling.”
“I’m so sorry,” Alison said, pulling away from him. “This afternoon. I—”
“It’s all right, Alison. I’m all right. I’m more worried about you—he didn’t hurt you or anything, did he? He’s quite the beast of a man.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, he didn’t hurt me and no, it’s not. As if the day wasn’t difficult enough, you had to put up with that performance by the Earl of Belmont.”
“Come, let’s sit and talk.”
He took her hand and led her through the stables, past the sleeping horses and to the haystack at the end. They shuffled comfortably together—close enough to touch, but still far enough away to look at each other.
“We need to leave,” Alison said, suddenly urgent, “as soon as possible.”
“You’re right,” he said. “You are more right than you could know. I will never let you marry that man. Believe me, Alison. No matter what happens, I will protect you from him.”
“I know you will,” Alison said, taking his hand and kissing it gently. “And I will do everything I can to fight for our love. Wewillbe together, Luke. Or there is no point in living.”
Luke leaned forward, cupping her cheek in his hand. He paused before kissing her, instead gazing into her eyes. In them, he could see love, certainly, but also a fierce determination to get what she wanted. What she wanted was him, and that sent a thrill pulsing through his body.
He inched closer, taking in every detail of her perfect face. The sweet little blonde hairs at her hairline, the sparkle of her blue eyes. He saw the contours of her cheeks, their pink flush over her porcelain white skin. He admired her pink, plump lips, slightly parted and ready to receive his.
When their lips finally met, the thrill in him turned into a fire, as it always did. He felt her place her hand gently on his chest, and his body tingled where she touched him. The hand that cupped her cheek reached round to the back of her neck and stroked her hair.
“My Alison,” he whispered, pulling away from her. “My beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted Alison. You can do anything you put your mind to. You are a slave to no one. Be brave, My Love.”
“You make me brave,” she whispered back. “I will rebel against them, but only for you.”
She pushed herself forward again to try to get another taste of his lips, but he pulled back, smiling at her. He didn’t want to get lost in her body when they had so little time to get lost in each other. He wanted her—of course he did—but that was secondary, always, to just being with her, hearing her talk.
“I have something I need to tell you,” he said, taking her hand and stroking the back of it. He watched his own thumb run back and forth as he tried to find the best way to tell her.
“What is it?” she asked, and he heard the note of panic in her voice. He looked up at her, sadness in his eyes.
“I told you about my mother, didn’t I?” he asked, although he knew he had.
“Yes, but—”
“I need to find my roots, Alison.”
“Are you leaving me here, to this fate?”
She backed away ever so slightly, and he reached out for her.
“No! Goodness me, no. Never! I’m sorry if I made you think that, I—”
“You’re not leaving me?”
He looked at her for a moment, then looked away and swallowed.
“I’m going away,” he said. “But only for two days. I am going to find my mother, discover my roots.”
“But you can do thatafter—”
