Page 22 of The Rakehell's Seduction
Vaughn smiled. “So it’s a noble cause for you, and I’m simply thebastardstanding in your way? Well, may the best man win.” Vaughn walked away, leaving Ambrose on edge.
He didn’t want to be adversaries with his old friend, but things had changed. They’d once run through the fields, fishing poles in hand and singing bawdy songs on summer days.And now we are enemies. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. He stomped over to the lemonade tables and downed an entire glass in a few hasty gulps. It was rather ungentlemanly. A few matrons raised their brows and whispered behind their fans.
He offered an apologetic smile to the ladies before he headed for Alex. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight. He caught a glimpse of Perdita and Alex approaching a small space in the garden where croquet had been set up for picnic guests. Alex was playfully swinging her mallet while Perdita was setting up the balls. Ambrose was halfway to them when Vaughn beat him there.
“I’d love to join you ladies in a game,” Vaughn said just as Ambrose reached them. Both Alex and her friend seem surprised.
“Well…” Alex started, but Ambrose spoke up.
“I wish to play as well. We could play doubles.” He could be on Alex’s team and keep her away from Vaughn.
“Splendid idea, Mr. Worthing,” Alex said and tucked her arm through Perdita’s. “We ladies shall play against you gentlemen, and I suspect we shall crow our victory over you.” When Alex looked his way, her lips twitched impishly as though she’d guessed his intentions.
“Right,” he grunted and retrieved a mallet. He simply kicked Vaughn’s across the ground until it landed at the tip of the other man’s leather shoes.
“Thank you.” Vaughn’s cold reply was dripping with sarcasm as he picked up the mallet.
“Perdita and I shall use the blue and black balls. You gentlemen may have the red and yellow.” Alex escorted her friend away from the men to whisper again.
“This is not how I intended to spend my garden party,” Ambrose muttered as he stole the red ball, leaving Vaughn the yellow one.
The ladies were allowed the first turn, because, well, because Ambrose was attempting to be a gentleman, after all. Alex was the first to strike the ball, and he couldn’t help but admire the way the wind tugged at her skirts, the pale-blue muslin like a summer sky, the white lace at the edges of her hem and sleeves like wisps of clouds. Her hair was pulled back neatly with a few loose tendrils caressing her neck. It made him even hungrier for her, even after what they’d done in the garden earlier.
She’d opened herself up and let him see the real Alex, not the woman with a heart encased in iron. His Alex had been sweet, breathless, passionate, and a giving partner. He’d never imagined that. Too many ladies were afraid to touch a man back, to explore him. They believed they must lie still and wait until the man had sated himself, but that wasn’t how lovemaking ought to be. Ambrose was a firm believer that a lady had as much right to her own passions and pleasures as any man did. Alex had been a perfect partner in pleasure. Someday she’d make a man a very happy husband.
The thought stopped him cold. The very idea of Alex with another man set his teeth on edge again.
It’s not as though you could marry her,his inner voice reminded him. He didn’t believe in tying himself to one woman for the rest of his life, nor did he have any interest in a country house filled to the brim with squalling babes and a fretful nanny. He preferred London and its wild pace and exciting venues.
Yet when he looked at Alex, standing proud and playful in the garden, wielding a croquet mallet, her hair blowing in the breeze and the heated blue sky that made her skin flushed and her eyes bright… Perhaps the country wasn’t as very bad as all that.
In less than an hour, both he and Vaughn had been soundly beaten by their fair ladies, and in the midst of their defeat, he and Vaughn had been laughing and smiling. A twinge of pain in his chest made him long for days past, for friendships that had withered and died. He rubbed his chest above his heart as he watched Vaughn bending to pick up wickets with Miss Darby’s assistance.
The girl was clearly interested in Vaughn, but he knew what obstacles Perdita faced, and Vaughn’s cold heart was only part of her battle. The Darbys were a country-based family with no real influence in London and no titles. It was not hard for a gentleman like himself who had no title to become a favorite among theton, but ladies without a blue-blooded lineage to boast of faced tough odds. Of course, if Vaughn was desperate enough, he would take any decent lady with any coin at the ready. Miss Darby didn’t deserve to marry a bounder like Vaughn. She was too nice of a girl to be tricked into such a fate.
“Something troubles you?” Alex stood next to him, her face a picture of intense reflection, as though she was making a study of his thoughts.
He cleared his throat and gave a small nod in Perdita’s direction. She was talking to Vaughn, her smile warm and her manner inviting but by no means coquettish. From what he had discerned of Alex’s friend, Perdita had a generous and open heart. It made her perfect prey for a man like Vaughn.
“That troubles me. It bears watching.” He didn’t wish to elaborate, and thankfully Alex seemed to know his fears. She adjusted her white shawl about her shoulders. It had rosebuds embroidered along the hem, the blood-red petals drawing his eyes as he tried not to look at her face again. He was trapped in dreams of kissing her, plundering her sweet mouth and sliding his hands in the secret places of her body and swallowing her cries of ecstasy.
“And here I believed you were the man to scare us genteel ladies. But if Lord Darlington frightens even you, it is a concern I will keep in mind.” Alex moved to stand in front of him, and he felt the heavy pull of her gaze. He raised his eyes, knowing he was damned.
“Ambrose…” She tilted her head as though sensing his reluctance.
When he locked his gaze on hers, he let out the words that would damn him.
“I cannot look at you without remembering the way it felt to hold you in my arms,” he whispered huskily. “All I can think about is kissing you, the feel of you beneath me and drowning in your sweetness. It is torturing me.” He didn’t look away and neither did she, though her cheeks pinkened. It was a small mercy that the croquet field was a distance from the tea tables so they could not be overheard.
“If we were to start, we might never stop,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on his lips, with a wanton hungry expression that seemed to echo his own soul. They’d started down a dangerous road outside the gardens when they’d pleasured each other, and he knew it would soon deepen when they finally made love.Made love.He’d never really used those words when thinking of bedding a woman, but with Alex, there had been a softness in his heart that frightened him.
Lord, he was damned for wanting her.
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Chapter 9
There was no way he could resist kissing Alex once they started. She was temptation wrapped in sin like no other woman had been for him before.
