Authors: Julia Templeton
Nicolette turned back to Darian, her brows furrowed. “Is it so horrible to test oneself...to see where it will lead you? Honestly, what is so bad about taking a risk?”
Salvatore frowned. What was she talking about? Obviously something more than just taking a ride during a storm.
“Most risks are foolhardy, yet some are worth taking,” Darian replied, his voice lower, seductive.
Nicolette’s lips quirked. “What would you know of risks, aside from being caught in a married woman’s bed?”
Salvatore hid a smile at the slight. Darian looked at Nicolette, his expression indecipherable. “Touché,” he said, reaching out to take hold of Nicolette’s hand, bringing it to his lips. “Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”
Oh for the love of God!
Nicolette smiled prettily. “Perhaps.”
“I’m flattered.”
Salvatore didn’t know whom he wished to strangle more at that moment.
“Now tell me, Nicolette, do you always take chances?” Darian all but purred.
“Always,” she replied without hesitation, and Salvatore had to refrain from cursing, especially when Darian’s thumb brushed back and forth over Nicolette’s hand.
Salvatore opened the door and the sun poured in. “Look, the storm has passed. We should be getting on our way.” Without another word, he stepped outside.
Chapter Five
“How many lovers have you had, Nicolette?” Darian asked, a dark brow lifted in question. “How many have you had?”
He smiled. “I asked you first.”
She stared at him, wondering why it was women flocked to him in droves. It had to be the money and the title, because he was the most conceited man on the planet. For the past ten minutes she had listened while he droned on about his crops in Virginia, and then the expensive ring he had purchased while in London the week before. Nicolette glanced at Salvatore who rode ahead of them, his shoulders ramrod straight. He stayed within hearing distance, she knew that much.
Her body still burned from where Salvatore had touched her earlier. If only Darian had not arrived, she would have made love to Salvatore.
“I do not count my conquests.”
Apparently that was not the answer he was looking for, because he frowned. “So, you have had many?”
She shrugged. “Does that bother you?”
“Perhaps.” To make amends, he quickly added, “I did not mean to offend you.”
She laughed under her breath. “Oh, yes you did. You would never speak to another woman in such a way, but I am not every other woman, now am I?”
“No, you are not like any other woman I have met.” He looked ahead to Salvatore, and brought his horse closer. “Why did you not come to me last night? I waited for you.”
“I fell asleep.”
“Liar.”
She laughed then. “There are eyes everywhere, Kedgwick. I know that you have to be most careful, especially since your betrothed is underfoot.”
At the mention of Elizabeth, Darian rolled his eyes. “If only I did not have to marry that woman.” He released a heavy sigh. “What I would give to marry you instead. How I would rush to the altar.”
“You can’t marry me. I do not have blue enough blood.”
His gaze shifted from hers, to her chest. “True, you cannot be my wife, but you could be my mistress.”
Feeling as though she’d been slapped, Nicolette lifted her chin. “I would never be a kept woman.”
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “I would give you anything you desired. A home, jewels, gowns. You would never have to play again.”
“I would never stop playing the piano, particularly for a man. Music is my life, my passion.”
She could tell by the way he clenched his jaw, that he had not expected such a revelation. He seemed infuriated. “I want you, Nicolette, and I believe you want me as well. I do not want to argue with you.”
The need in his voice made her increasingly uncomfortable. “I thought you were different, Kedgwick. But I can plainly see you are not.” Without another word, she put her knees to the horse’s sides and sped forward, past Salvatore.
Darian raced after and she could hear him catching up. A moment later he reached out, ripped the reins from her, and pulled her close. Before she could blink, his lips captured hers in a kiss that was not at all gentle, his teeth pressing hard against her upper lip.
Disgusted, Nicolette pulled away.
Darian’s eyes were wild. “I did not mean to offend you.”
How she yearned to slap him. “Yes, you did.”
“This is not over between us...we will finish this,” he said, his voice low and husky.
Thankfully she was saved from replying when Salvatore approached, reining in beside Nicolette.
“Did the horse throw a shoe?” Salvatore asked, his gaze searching her face. He looked...angry. Her heart gave a jolt. Was he jealous? She had her answer when his eyes locked on her lips, which were no doubt swollen from Darian’s kiss.
She smiled inwardly. He was jealous!
“No, it was just a rock lodged in the hoof,” Darian said before Nicolette could form a reply.
*****
Salvatore remained silent during dinner. Sitting directly across from Nicolette, he made small talk with his dinner companions, Charlotte managing her usual place at his side. Nicolette wondered if she groped him beneath the table as she was known to do. The very thought made her blood boil.
Nicolette could not remember a time she had seen Salvatore with a woman. True, they did not spend a lot of time apart, but there were nights he would tell her he had errands to run and would not return until morning. Once she had been able to smell perfume on his shirt. He had told her it was from Madame la Monte, the madam of the brothel where their mothers worked and they had lived.
Having experienced just a taste of what making love would be like, Nicolette stared at her partner. She had always thought him more handsome than any man she’d known. So different from the conceited earl who sat three people down to her right, staring at her, no doubt hoping to catch her attention.
Darian’s kiss had made her ill to her stomach—the complete opposite effect that Salvatore’s kiss had had on her.
Memories of the precious moments in the cabin made her blood warm. The feel of Salvatore’s mouth on her breasts, his tongue laving her nipples, the feel of his long fingers inside her, stroking her as though he knew her body better than she did. Her gaze shifted to his long-fingered hand, which rested on his glass. Hands that could play the violin, the piano and any instrument he chose. Hands that could play a woman, making her body sing.
She felt like a moth being lured to a flame. Here she was supposed to be seducing Darian for Salvatore, and instead she was hoping to seduce Salvatore. She could not help it. She had loved him for too long, and he had always looked at her and treated her like a child.
But she would no longer lie to herself. She wanted more. Salvatore would be her tutor, and she would not stop with the lessons. The only problem she could foresee was keeping Darian at bay.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. Lord, but she was confused. Above all else she had to remember this was only a game. She must keep Darian at arm’s length. Hopefully she could divert suspicion from the countess and Elizabeth. Apparently the duke himself would be showing up tomorrow morning, which meant it would be even harder for Darian to find time alone with her.
Thank goodness.
Salvatore jumped, and nearly knocked his glass over. Charlotte cast him a sheepish smile and he managed a tight grin.
No doubt her hand was latched onto Salvatore’s thigh—or somewhere even more intimate. Nicolette’s stomach rolled. Why didn’t the woman prey on someone else? Someone like Darian? Kicking off her slipper, Nicolette extended her foot and rubbed it against Salvatore’s. Salvatore’s brows furrowed into a frown. He picked up his glass and took a long swallow. Nicolette trailed her toes up along his ankle.
Salvatore glanced at Charlotte, who had turned away to speak to Viscount Aubrey. He then glanced to his right, at Mrs. Stromme, and then quickly looked away. He took another drink and then his gaze lifted to hers.
Nicolette smiled and lifted a brow.
Surprise flitted over his features, and then with a smirk, he jerked his foot away.
Taking a drink from her wineglass, she watched him as he in turn watched her. She continued to drink, letting the liquor burn its way down her throat. She welcomed the fire. Perhaps it would quench the flame of desire within her.
His eyes narrowed as she drained the entire glass. It seemed the father in him had returned.
“You are thirsty this evening?” the viscount beside her asked.
Pulling her gaze from Salvatore, Nicolette nodded. “Indeed, it has been a long day.”
The viscount motioned for the footman to replenish her drink. She smiled prettily and caught Darian’s gaze. His dark eyes were imploring. They had not spoken since they returned to the manor, when all three of them had parted company and retired straight to their rooms.
Darian motioned to the veranda, apparently wanting to meet her outside after dinner. The footman poured her a drink. Breaking eye contact with Darian, she thanked the footman, took a sip of the wine and caught Salvatore’s stare.
She finished the wine, set the glass down and focused all her attention on the plate before her.
*****
Nicolette ignored Salvatore the rest of the night.
Looking gorgeous in a forest green gown, and wearing long white gloves, she looked the epitome of a princess. Having finished off another glass of wine, she licked her lips.
A stirring began in the pit of Salvatore’s stomach, growing outward as he remembered vividly the feel of those full lips under his, the velvety softness of her tongue, and the way she pressed her curvaceous body against him. When she had moaned and shifted her hips against him, it had very nearly been his undoing. She had been so wet for him, her hot, tight channel pulsing, drawing his finger in deeper.
Dear god, how had he allowed this to happen? How could he have gone so far with her? Now they could never return to how they once were. He had ruined everything.
Perhaps once they left Kedgwick Manor, the two of them could forget all that had happened here.
Liar! He could no more forget the feel of her body against his, the taste of her lips, the feel of her soft womanly curls against his palm as he stroked her, than he could quit breathing.
Even now he wanted her with a ferocity that terrified him. He cursed under his breath. She would seduce Darian, lead him to ruin, then they would leave, perhaps visit Greece for an extended time. Nicolette loved it in his mother’s homeland, safe above the ocean in their own little rented villa, going swimming...sightseeing.
Dinner ended, and Salvatore stared at his half-full plate. What was happening to him? He had all but lost his appetite of late. It must be staying in this old tomb of a home, a constant reminder of the father who despised him that made him so restless.
You must never forget what he did to us. His mother’s words to him on her deathbed burned within him, making him put aside all his romantic notions in regard to Nicolette. By week’s end they would leave this place and never look back.
Darian slipped out the back door, and Nicolette stayed with the Viscount for a few minutes before making her way out the opposite door. The countess was busy speaking with Elizabeth and a group of women, who laughed gaily, completely oblivious to the liaison happening right beneath their noses.
Salvatore walked toward the door Nicolette had departed and stepped out onto the veranda. The wind had kicked up, and he welcomed the breeze. He caught sight of someone entering the labyrinth and he started to follow but then stopped. What was he doing? He had to allow what was going to happen, to happen. He had asked for this. He had all but told her what to do, and now he must give her space.
With a heavy heart, he headed to his room, not stopping by the table where a group of men had joined to play cards. He had never felt part of the aristocracy, and had always disdained the men who did nothing for a living, save stroll through life on their ancestors’ money and titles passed on to them. They had nothing in common with a man who had grown up on the streets of London, who knew what it was to want so badly that it consumed you.
He took the steps two at time, not stopping when the widow called out his name.
*****
Nicolette entered the labyrinth, her heart pounding loudly in her ears with every step that took her deeper into the maze. She had an uneasy feeling. No one had followed her, and the night grew colder by the second.
She was ready to turn back when a hand snaked out and grabbed her. She gasped, but it was cut short as Darian’s mouth came down upon hers. Darian groaned low in his throat as he pulled her tight to him, his mouth slanting against hers, his teeth pressing hard into her upper lip.
She winced from the pain, once again comparing the kiss with the one she’d shared earlier with Salvatore.
“I must have you,” Darian said, pulling up her gown with both hands.
Nicolette pushed at him, but he held her tight, his eyes dark, wild.
“You have teased me mercilessly for days now. Last night you said you were too tired, and today at the cabin, the way you looked at me said what you felt. I know that look. I know that desire.”
The way she had looked at him? Was he mad?
She had not looked that way because of him, but rather what she’d experienced with Salvatore.
“We can’t do this, not here.”
“Why not?”
“Because, it’s too cold.”
He flashed a cocky grin. “I’ll keep you warm, I promise.”
“Kedgwick,” she said, keeping her voice low, seductive. “I expected more from you than a tumble in the labyrinth.”
He released a heavy sigh. “You try my patience, Nicolette.”
“What if Elizabeth came upon us?”
He shrugged. “I am not married yet.”
“Yes, but you may as well be.”
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
“You may not, but I fear I must, for both our sakes,” Nicolette said, choosing her words carefully. “After all, what would the duke say if he found out about us? You could lose everything.”
Darian frowned. “How do you know?”
“Everyone knows.”
Running a hand through his hair, he said, “I feel like a child, my every movement being watched.” Hearing footsteps, Darian pulled away from her. “Someone comes. You had better go.”
Relieved, Nicolette already took a few steps away when Darian caught her. “Dream of me.”
Nicolette forced a smile she didn’t feel and started back the way she had come. She had just turned a corner when she ran into Charlotte. The other woman was unsteady on her feet. Nicolette had noted the widow drank every night and tonight was no exception.
“Nicolette, what are you doing out here?”
“I wanted solitude. And what of yourself, Lady Mariweather?”
“Please, call me Charlotte,” she said, wine sloshing over the glass, onto the beaded bodice of her gown. “I came out for more of the same. I can’t bear to be in the company of all those women, all of them looking down their noses at me, especially that horrible Elizabeth.” She gave a shudder. “That woman is as ugly as a post, and has a personality to match.”
“Indeed,” Nicolette said in agreement.
“What a waste, especially for a man like Kedgwick.” The sides of Charlotte’s mouth lifted. “He is so virile and so handsome.”
“You have been intimate with him?”
Charlotte snorted. “Hasn’t everyone?”
Nicolette leaned forward and whispered in Lady Mariweather’s ear. “He is just beyond us, in the center of the labyrinth. He told me he awaits someone. Is that someone you, I wonder?”
Charlotte smoothed a hand down the front of her skirts and handed Nicolette her wineglass. “He is alone?”