Desperately Seeking Suzanna (12 page)

“Your Grace,” he offered with an elegant bow. “I would not dream of cutting you in such a manner. I was only temporarily distracted by your company this evening. I do hope my knuckles will stay intact.”

“As long as you stay out of my tea biscuits, your fingers are safe.”

“Ladies, the Duchess of Thornwood is known for rapping knuckles if you put one toe out of line. Do beware, especially if you think to sneak and eat her sweets.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges, all of his ire from moments ago lost with the action. “Or is the rapping of knuckles reserved only for mischievous boys of ten years of age?”

“Dear boy, I have not seen you nearly often enough in recent years,” she admonished. “You must come around for a visit now that I am in town. Have you seen my son this evening? He claimed to be attending, which I found most interesting.”

“I have not. I haven’t seen Thornwood in a few days. He said he would attend this evening? That is curious.”

This woman was the Mad Duke of Thornwood’s mother? She seemed quite sane, unlike the lady at her other side. Sue gave a mental shrug. You never could tell what was going on under the surface with members of the
ton
. She supposed that was why everyone was so content to discuss the weather and current fashions; it allowed for more secrets to lie dormant. Unfortunately, Sue didn’t have the ability to discuss damp English weather for hours on end, lest she fall asleep.

“Indeed.” The duchess shot a look at Lillian. “Dear, you are looking a bit pink. You are not overheated in this warm room, are you?”

“No, Your Grace. I am quite all right. Although perhaps some air would do me good. If you will excuse me.” Lillian stood to leave. “Sue, I’m going to the terrace. Would you like to come with me?”

She did look flushed. Lillian had danced with this lady’s mad son at the last ball. Perhaps she was fretful over being associated with him. Sue could understand her friend’s hesitation. She was about to agree to leave with her when she was interrupted.

“I was coming to collect Miss Green for our dance.” Holden held his arm out for her, not allowing any argument.

“Go ahead, Lillian. I’ll catch up with you later.” Sue watched Lillian leave before standing to join Holden. “It was nice chatting with you,” Sue offered to Henrietta as she laid her hand on Holden’s arm. She felt his arm tense under her touch. Glancing up at him, she saw what looked like concern filling his eyes.

When they were away from the parlor, he stopped and spun to look down at her. “You chatted with that woman?”

“The one you insulted for no reason? Yes, we spoke.”

His jaw clenched and he glanced away for a moment before looking back at her. “What did you speak of?”

“How is that any business of yours?”

“It isn’t. What did you speak of?”

Why did he care? And furthermore why should she defend her conversational actions to him? The overbearing… “I was under the impression you were supposed to play the handsome and charming rake. Well, you are most certainly not charming, in case you were wondering. And I don’t desire a dance with you.”

He drew back in surprise. “I wasn’t wondering, but why do you say that?”

Was he truly so unaware of his actions? “Because you…”—she huffed in anger before continuing—“you, my lord, are dense as well as blind. I would rather be hit over the head with flatware than dance with you.”

“Flatware?”

“Yes, forks and such. You do know the definition of flatware.”

“Yes.” He was grinning now. Grinning! Oh, the infuriating man, grinning when she was trying to insult him. “Pardon me, I’m only wondering why you would want to be showered with forks and spoons to begin with.”

“Because plates are heavy. And as much as I do not wish to dance with you, I don’t want to die for the decision.”

“Why not pillows, then?”

“Well, yes. In hindsight, pillows would be the best option. I’d like to pound you with a pillow or two.” She clamped her jaw closed. How had this conversation gone so wrong? Spoons and pillows? She cleared her throat and looked away for a second before turning back toward him. “What were we discussing again?”

“I believe you just challenged me to a pillow fight.” He began to laugh in deep rumbles that vibrated the tension from her bones.

“Blast it all. If my mother thought dead relatives were improper, I hate to know what she would think now.”

He laughed harder and shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I admit I find it amusing.”

“You would,” she grumbled through a smile.

“You realize we’ve missed the dance I collected you for.”

“Did we?”
Good!
She gave a small satisfied nod of her head.

“We’re making somewhat of a habit of this. One day I will dance with you, Sue Green.”

“You, my lord, assume too much. I have no desire to dance with you.” There. She’d said it. She was strong. She had a plan, and it did not involve dancing with Holden.

“I thought you were jesting. I’ve never been turned down by a lady before.” He ran a hand over his chin in thought. “I suppose I didn’t think it possible.”

“Other ladies find you charming.”

“But you don’t. I believe we’ve established that fact. Why, then, are you standing here talking to me? You could have left before now if you dislike me so.”

Sue opened her mouth to offer some retort, but no words came to mind. Why was she here talking to him? This was the very thing she’d sworn not to do. And she thought herself strong. She wasn’t strong at all. She should be husband hunting. Instead she was in a shadowed corner of the ballroom, laughing with the one man she should be avoiding. “I’ll take my leave now.”

He looked as if he might say something, then fell silent watching her for a moment with narrowed eyes. The moment stretched on between them, neither quite sure what to say or how to walk away. When he finally spoke, it was with slow deliberate words. “I should take you back to your family.”

“I can find my own way.”

“I’m sure you can.”

Sue offered him a fleeting smile, turned, and sped as fast as her feet would move into the crowded ballroom.

***

This was silly. He was no stranger to shadowed corners of terraces and had experienced more garden benches than he’d like to admit, but waiting alone in a library for a lady he hadn’t even seen this evening? There wasn’t anyone at this ball that neared his memory of Suzanna.

Only a handful had her lack of height, and of those, only Sue came close to her coloring. But Sue could never be the brazen seductress Suzanna had been. A bark of laughter came from his throat at the thought. That simply couldn’t be. The fact was, Suzanna wasn’t in attendance tonight.

Yet here he stood.

He shook his head and looked down at the note in his hand once again. He shouldn’t have trusted the Fairlyn twins again.

Come and find me. I’ll be in the library during the supper hour, cloaked in darkness and alone. —Suzanna

P.S. No candles allowed.

The last line was in a different hand, and neither was written in the sweeping penmanship he would have imagined for Suzanna. Of course, how would he know about her penmanship? He rolled his eyes at his sick desperation over this lady and blew out the candle at his side with one quick puff of air. This was a bad idea.

He should leave.

He was reaching for the door when it opened. Light from the hallway spilled into the dark room, silhouetting her ample curves and nipped-in waist. His breath caught for a second. Her face was in shadow but her hair shown in the lamplight at her back like it was made of fallen stars. He’d finally found her.

“Isabelle? Are you in here?” she asked into the quiet library as she took a step forward, releasing the doorknob. “Victoria said you…”

“Suzanna,” his voice came out in a rough whisper. He was close enough to hear her intake of breath, and it sent a ripple of awareness through his body.

She stepped to the side, away from him but also away from the door. “You’re not Isabelle.”

“Not last I checked.” He kicked the door closed with his toe and took a step in her direction. He wasn’t going to lose her again. There would be no escaping him this time.

“Is she here with you?” She took another step away from him, backing toward a wall of books.

He had to mentally shake himself to keep track of what she was asking. Was who here with him? He had no idea, but he did know they were alone. “No, but you are.”

“You’ll have to excuse me.” She tried to move past him but he blocked her path.

“Not a chance.” He stalked closer to her, a grin tugging at his mouth as he watched her take another step back away from him, her silhouette moving in the darkness. She thought she could slip away again? Not likely.

“I have to go see to Isabelle. I got a message she was ill in the library and in need of my assistance. If she isn’t here…” Her head turned toward the closed door.

“I believe your friend is quite well. I was lured here with a note as well. Only my note is true.” He crumpled the note held tight in his hand with a victorious grasp before dropping it into his pocket.

She bumped into the arm of a chair and scurried around it. Clearly, she thought a leather chair would stop him. She was wrong. “What did this note say?”

“That I might find you here.” He stepped around the chair in one swift move, drawing nearer to her with every breath.

“Oh.”

“Suzanna, why did you leave? Wait.” He threw up a hand. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I only care that you’re here now.”

“I shouldn’t be,” she muttered, her face tilted down level with his cravat.

“I’ve heard Lord Geddings is almost as proud of his book collection as he is his hunting trophies. So many hard edges…” He heard her back hit the bookshelf with a little thud. “Not like you. Soft. Beautiful,” he finished in a whisper to himself, but he knew she heard him.

He closed the final gap between them, leaning one hand on the shelf above her head. The leather-bound volumes shifted under his fingers as he moved over her. She was so close. Her hair smelled like sweets stolen from the kitchen. He inhaled, but her scent wasn’t enough of her. He needed to touch her, but he waited so as not to frighten her away—not this time.

“I shouldn’t…” she began, but the words became lost, clinging to her lips, full lips he wanted to trap beneath his.

“Nor should I. Yet here we are, together.” He found the lace trim at the shoulder of her gown and twitched it between his fingers.

“Indeed.”

Leaning in farther above her, he followed the line of lace with the backs of his knuckles where it met her skin. Up over the slight bump of her collarbone and across her shoulder, he drew a line to her neck. “I’ve longed to touch you ever since that night.”

She swallowed and took a ragged breath. “Truly?” The word was only half spoken.

“You had a doubt in your mind?” His fingers drifted up the column of her neck, lifting her chin. She was finally within his grasp. Her soft skin burned under his touch. The shadow of her lips parted as she looked up into his face.

Darkness shrouded them but he could still see the outline of her mouth, soft and calling to him. “I thought…”

“And now here you are.” His hand traced the line of her jaw, drawing a shaken breath from her as his fingers slipped up to frame her face.

“Yes,” she whispered.

They fell silent for a moment, locked together in the promise of something—a kiss? Perhaps more. The darkness didn’t matter anymore for she was here with him.

When he couldn’t wait any longer and met her lips, she whimpered and wrapped her arms around him. She pulled him in with her strawberry-flavored mouth and her small hands on his back. He couldn’t get close enough to her. With a groan he ripped his lips from hers to wrap his hands about her waist, lifting her and pinning her against the stacks of leather-bound volumes. Her hands snaked around his neck as one of the books from the shelf fell to the floor with a thud.

Her fingers delved into his hair just as he began to plunder her mouth. Her sweet mouth, oh how he’d missed it. How would her lips feel wrapped around the length of him? He pressed harder into her hips at the thought. Her tongue tangled with his with an urgency he didn’t remember from before. She wanted him. And she wasn’t going anywhere this time.

He slid his hands over her hips to cradle her in the palms of his hands. As if reading his mind, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her large breasts pressed into his chest with a softness that almost made him groan. He wanted her naked, wanted to taste her—all of her. Overwhelmed with the need to dive into her and consume her, he pulled her closer still. He wanted to tumble with her for days until he’d finally had his fill of her.

Walking with her wrapped around him, he managed to find a chair and dropped into it. Their kiss was broken for a second as she settled into his lap. She was straddling his thighs, her soft weight resting on his knees.

“Too bad it’s so terribly dark in here. I’d like to enjoy the sight of you atop me. So lovely.” He slid his hands up the outside of her breasts and across the exposed creamy mounds to her neck, pulling her closer. “These lips.” He kissed her full mouth before finishing, “I would recognize these lips anywhere.”

She pulled away with a gasp, shoving him back into the depths of the chair with the palm of her hand. Her lips were parted, but on a question, not in invitation.

He stroked her side, attempting to draw her back to him. “Suzanna? Did I say something wrong?”

“Yes. I mean, no. It’s only that… What am I doing?” she whispered as she began shimmying off his lap, wrestling with her skirts to do so. “I must leave.”

“Wait. Don’t go!” He reached for her but she’d vanished like smoke on a windy afternoon. Only the traces of her scent remained. “Not yet,” he complained.

“I must.” A pained whisper returned from amid the darkness. There was a rustle of skirts and a screech as a chair slid across the wooden floor, accompanied by a muttered, “Blast it all.”

Then came silence.

His fingers were still grasping at the air before him when the door to the library slammed. He stood to chase after her but, damn, the chit had made him hard as rock.