And then the most remarkable thing happened. Squaring her shoulders, Alexandra met his gaze dead on. Whatever discomfort she’d just been feeling had completely vanished—swept away beneath a sultry veneer that made his heart leap. Why wasn’t she busy making her escape? She gave him a little smile and a scorching heat flooded him from his head to his toes. Did she realize that she was playing with fire? He ought to warn her, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was watch her face, her lips, which seemed to dimple ever so slightly in one corner, her eyes, which seemed to draw him in. And then she blinked, as she drew a tight breath, and he realized with great fascination that she wasn’t nearly as confident as she was trying to let on. Whatever her agenda might be, she was clearly trying to appear more sophisticated and knowledgeable than she was, and there was something very charming about that somehow. He couldn’t help but admire her efforts.
“My lord,” she whispered in a rather seductive voice as she took a step toward him. His skin began to tingle. She looked determined, and he knew then, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she was trying to seduce him. Good God! He held his breath. He didn’t want her coming any closer, but he didn’t want to move either—indeed, he didn’t think himself capable. Yet he was the more experienced of the two. He had to stop her; he simply had to.
Her gaze was unwavering, the edge of her lips curled upward in an almost predatory smile. His stomach tightened as she paused before him—so close, he could almost see the sparks of energy flowing between them.
“May I take your hat, my lord?”
A whoosh of air escaped Michael’s lungs at that one simple question. It wasn’t so much the question itself, but the way in which she’d asked it, her voice low and inviting. He’d be lucky if he survived to see another day. Lord, help me.
She tilted her head a little, as if she was pondering something, then licked her lips before biting down ever so gently on her bottom lip—a mesmerizing motion, that Michael could not tear his eyes away from. More blood raced toward his groin, hardening him even further. He held onto his hat with all his might, trying desperately to gain some semblance of control before it abandoned him completely.
Alexandra reached down and tugged at the brim, her hands brushing softly against the smooth fabric of his trousers.
“Lady Alexandra, I—” he said, his voice sounded distant in his own ears. He had to pull himself together—for both of their sakes.
“Please, call me, Alex,” she murmured.
He cleared his throat and took a step backward, determined to put an end to this while he was still able. He watched as she straightened, her eyes narrowing as if with confusion.
“Very well then . . .” he said, deciding that it might be time to start explaining things to her. Surely she would understand. “Alex . . . you are a lady, and I . . . well, this is highly irregular, don’t you agree? Besides, your brother will most likely kill me, or worse, if he discovers us together . . . like this. After all, I promised him that I wouldn’t . . . I was hoping that . . .” he said as he raked his hand through his hair in agitation. “Dash it all, there are consequences, you know!” His voice wavered on the last part—not very convincing at all, he realized.
He watched her, hoping that she’d find his words a bit more believable than he did, but apparently she didn’t, because instead of turning away, she raised a challenging eyebrow and edged toward him once more, her eyes watching him closely as he felt his resolve begin to falter. When she leaned into him, every last honorable contemplation of stopping the inevitable fled. He dropped his hat, his hands reached for her and his head dipped toward the pure delight she so willingly offered. All rational thought abandoned him, and he knew that he was lost—completely and utterly beyond saving.
Finally.
His lips brushed against her skin, searing her with kisses, his pulse quickening with every touch he made as he breathed her in. He heard her sigh in response—such a lovely sound.
Abandoning her cl**vage, he tightened his grip on her waist and buried his head against the curve of her neck. Once again, the scent of lavender enfolded him in its sweetness. He reached for her face, allowing his fingers to run along the delicate edge of her cheekbone. She leaned into his caress, letting out a slight murmur of pleasure that aroused him more than a kiss or touch ever should.
Enough.
Easing back, he watched her closely, examining each and every one of her features. Her face was flushed, her lips slightly parted, and when her eyes fluttered open, there was a look of want within them that almost had him embarrassing himself like a boy in short pants.
Without a word, he took her hand and dragged her along with him, almost tripping on a rug in his haste to get out of the hallway. He found the door to his room and pushed it open with such force that he nearly unhinged it.
Yanking her inside, he kicked the door shut with the heel of his shoe before thrusting her up against the wall. She looked mildly dazed, though by no means perturbed by his rough handling, although a few strands of her hair had come loose to trail down her neck.
“What do you want?” he asked her, his voice low and gravelly as he braced his arms on either side of her.
Alarm bells were ringing a deafening symphony in his head and as much as he wished it, he could no longer ignore them.
Alexandra peered up at him, her brilliant blue eyes swimming with desire. “You,” she whispered. “I want you, Michael.”
Had his name ever sounded sweeter? By God she was even more brazen than he’d come to expect.
Bloody hell!
If only he had the strength to walk away. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Such things have consequences,” he told her. “Are you prepared to face them?”
She shifted slightly as if unsure of how to answer. He’d given her a good reason to pause. “I’ve no desire to trap you,” she murmured as her warm breath flowed toward him, penetrating the thin linen of his shirt before diving beneath his skin—a soft heat that grew, spread, and filled him to the brim. “I merely wish to enjoy whatever it is you have to offer.”
Michael squeezed his eyes shut and counted to three, forcing his heart rate back to a more disciplined pace than it had been at for the past five minutes. He let out a slow, lengthy sigh. She was an innocent after all, regardless of how she wished for him to perceive her, and even though he may have just decided to ask for her brother’s permission to court her, he sure as hell wasn’t about to deny her a wedding night. Some things were sacred, even to him.
Still, he had to make her understand where this path she was so determined to take was bound to lead them. By God he was more than happy to oblige her, but it was still imperative to him that she made her choice, fully aware of what the repercussions would be. “You’re a virgin,” he told her. “I won’t change that.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice held a note of despair that shot straight through him. He squeezed his eyes even tighter and groaned in physical anguish. Did she have any idea of the effect she was having on him, he wondered.
“You’re a lady, Alex, and regardless of what I may have done in the past, I have never taken an innocent to my bed. Doing so would ruin you in every way imaginable. Even if nobody finds out, your eventual husband will discover the truth quickly enough, and he will despise you forever.” The look of disappointment on her face was undeniable, but he rushed on. He had to tell her of his own intentions before he lost his nerve. “I cannot deny that there is something between us—an attraction more powerful than any I have ever known. It’s for this reason that I have decided to ask for Ryan’s permission to court you.”
Alexandra froze, pondering his words briefly before saying, “Yes, I believe a courtship will serve us nicely.”
Michael frowned at her odd choice of words and considered a more direct approach. He needed to make sure that he’d made himself understood—that by agreeing to an intimate attachment with him, she was agreeing to so much more—a courtship and eventually marriage. On the other hand, the woman wasn’t an imbecile, and he loathed treating her as such.
Looking into her eyes, her need so nak*d in that gaze of hers, he leaned back on his heels and took her hand in his.
Enough talk.
She wanted him, and he wanted her. Let the cards fall where they may.
Alexandra’s pulse quickened as Michael led her brusquely toward a burgundy velvet sofa and with a gentle tug on her arm, encouraged her to sit, her mind still trying to digest his proposition.
A courtship?
She didn’t want marriage, but did a courtship necessarily have to lead to that? Clearly, Michael was an honorable man—more honorable than she’d imagined, given his reputation. She was confident that marriage would be the last thing he desired for himself, though she had to respect him for trying to do the right thing for her.
However, even if he wouldn’t take her to his bed, perhaps the pretext of a courtship would put his mind at ease enough to allow him to . . . her stomach fluttered at the thought of what he might do to her. When they returned to England they could always call the whole thing off.
She watched him now with growing interest as he pushed the table before the sofa a little bit closer. When that was done, he walked across to a standing mirror and pulled it away from the corner in which it stood, moving the heavy thing across the floor until it faced Alexandra. Stepping back, he admired his work, giving it a faint nod of approval. He then reached up to loosen his cravat, his eyes seeking hers. God he was handsome—dangerously so as he stood there now, his hair more ruffled than usual, his eyes burning with something that turned her legs to mush and his jaw tightening as if he was trying desperately to rein himself in. His gaze drifted down until she realized with a start that they had settled on the gentle rise and fall of her bosom.
Was that a soft groan she heard?
She glanced up and gasped at the blazing heat that shone in his eyes, her hand absently reaching for something with which to support her weight before her legs gave out completely. There was something raw and primitive in it that sent an instant rush of shivers coursing through her body.
Regarding the odd arrangement of furniture, she wondered once again what he might have in mind. Clearly, he must be quite experienced, for she could not imagine requiring anything other than the sofa itself.
She didn’t have a chance to consider it for long, before he was beside her, his arm circling about her waist and drawing her toward him. There was no more room for thought, no chance to back away or to flee. With the confidence of a man who knew what he wanted and intended to have it, Michael lifted her chin with his fingertips, tilting her head backward until the soft promise of his lips was but a hair breadth away from her own. She quivered ever so gently beneath his hand and inadvertently caught her breath as she waited expectantly for him to make his move.
A moment later his tongue swept slowly over her lower lip—his hand falling to rest alongside her breast. Cupping her gently, he pressed his hand against her before crushing her mouth in a fierce, heart-stopping kiss that shattered the stillness. She was alive—more tantalizingly so than she’d ever thought possible. Without thought for anything other than that very moment, she allowed him to deepen the kiss, his tongue twisting its way around hers, stroking the inner depths of her mouth with seductive pleasure.