Linna : Historical Romance (The Brocade Collection, Book 5) (4 page)

He’d given off circling the dance floor and was starting to cut through all the standing couples
. It didn’t look difficult. He was half a head taller than anyone else and they moved easily where he was carving a way through with the width of those velvet-encased shoulders.

Linna’s eyes went the same dimension as her mouth
. She didn’t have a hope of stopping it. Not only was he incredible, he was doing something just as incredible. He was walking straight through the crowd to her.

To...her?

It looked like everyone watched him do it, too.

Linna dropped her gaze to the highly polished wood beneath her and begged her mind to return
. She was afraid she was about to start salivating. She’d been hoping a dream-man would walk in and make part two of her plan easy. Only one thing made this an impossibility:  she hadn’t known a man who looked like this one could exist - even in her imagination.  

He
reached her and stopped before executing a perfect bow. She returned with a curtsey. She was half-afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her when she tried to rise, but they did.

“Allow me to introduce myself,
Mademoiselle
. Raoul Larroquette. At your service.”  He’d taken little bits of breath between each section of words, adding a foreign sound to the low timbre of voice. He was still in his bow and was holding out his hand now. “May I enquire, has this dance been spoken for?” 

Linna’s heart was clenching now
. She knew that’s what was happening from the pounding pressure that seemed to be radiating through her. She wondered how such a thing was possible and how to stop it. Linna Daniels didn’t react to a man like this - any man. No matter what man.

His hand lowered and he
pulled out of his bow. There was a slight pout to his lips when she glanced at them, as if he sucked in on his cheeks in order to make such an expression.

“Well
? Has this dance been spoken for? Or am I too late?” 

He was actually asking it
. Linna was afraid she was going to embarrass herself completely by giggling, but caught it. She lifted her chin, met the indecipherable shade of his eyes, and replied. “There isn’t any music.”

“
Ah. Allow me to correct that. Immediately.”

He held out one arm toward her, while signaling to the orchestra with the other
. If it started any music, she couldn’t hear it over what sounded like running water in her ears. Linna reached out and touched her fingers to a velvet-covered arm. It felt just as hard as it looked, just as strong. Amazing.

He was very graceful for a large man
. She noticed it as he walked lithely and surely at her side, fitting his strides to two of her own. Linna was impressed. She’d grown to a respectable height and yet she barely grazed his shoulder. She’d never seen anyone to compare. The man was enormous and fit. Everywhere. Her eyes flitted toward the legs walking beside hers.

He stopped, turned his forearm enough that it released her grip and had her fingers within his the next moment
. Then he was lifting those same fingers to his lips. All about them, couples were dancing. She raised her eyes to his as he lightly touched his lips to her fingertips.

Green eyes, tinged slightly with a touch of gray, met hers
. Linna held the gasp inside where it belonged. She couldn’t stop the infusion of color that tinted her entire body. There wasn’t a thing she could do about the rub of material at her breasts either, except experience it. She had to look back down. Everything about her reaction was horrible. Linna was always in control. The running water noise was still there as well, making it difficult to hear.    

“You do know how, don’t you?”

He’d released her hand and she just stood there. “What?” she finally asked.

“The dance
. You. Me.”  He placed her left hand on his right shoulder, before holding out his hand for her other one.

Her palm met solid, steel-like mass beneath the velvet
. The mountain of chest beneath his jacket rose and fell with each breath, taking her hand with it.
What a man...
she told herself.

He reached for her right hand since she hadn’t proffered it and held her fingers lightly
. “It’s a waltz. It’s new and acceptable, although considered risqué. Three steps, then pause. You can follow,
non
?”

Raoul started off and Linna moved with
him, catching glimpses of the kaleidoscope of others swirling about her peripheral vision. She raised her eyes to his chin, evaluating...calculating. He was very handsome. A slight cleft dented the end of his jaw.  

She felt his breath on her nose, her cheek, and then to the exposed flesh below her throat
. The resultant blizzard of shivers made her breasts react, while what could only be a groan came from the man at her fingertips. Linna’s eyes widened but he couldn’t have seen it. The hand at her back moved, pulling her closer to him. She didn’t resist. Her feet weren’t moving to any dance step she knew. It wasn’t that she couldn’t dance, she’d just never experienced it like she was at the moment. She might as well be floating.

Her body entered the enclosure created by his arms and she tipped her head toward the chest in front of her eyes
.
He has mother-of-pearl buttons
, she thought. Very expensive. He was dressed in old-fashioned court attire, but it was elegant and also very expensive. There were large ruffles on his shirt placket. She could see little seed pearls applied to the edges of the ruffle. His velvet jacket was fit to him without an inch of room to spare. He had expensive tastes and a great tailor. Such a man could keep a wife in the manner she was accustomed to…or even better.

“You smell like violets.”

The rumble of voice interrupted her. Linna tipped her head up, scanning the full roundness of his lower lip. He hadn’t one scar on his skin that she could tell...not one. All of which bode well.

He smiled, although the lips didn’t open
. It made dimples dent his cheeks. Linna sucked in the breath.
No man can be so gifted!
Their children were going to be astounding. They’d have two of them. Maybe three. She wasn’t going to just be a brood mare. He’d introduced himself as a Larroquette. They were at a ball at the old Larroquette Mansion in the French Quarter. He had to be one of them. That was another mark in his favor.

Larroquette was an old New Orleans name
. They’d had property since the city was laid out nearly a century earlier, with streets named for the royal houses of France. Everything about him was very impressive. An old important name, wealth, property. Presence. He was very nearly perfect, except for one small thing. He didn’t look easy to dominate. She sucked in on her cheeks. How did one go about dominating such an impressive specimen?

“You must tell me what thoughts bring such a look
. If, of course, you get over your anxiety of me.”

“What?” Linna replied
.

Raoul chuckled again
. Linna’s left hand rose and fell with it. He moved from holding her fingers to encasing her right hand entirely within his. Then, he was bringing their enjoined hands to the middle of his chest. Linna’s eyes followed every move.

“Am I being indiscreet?” he asked.

“Indiscreet?” she echoed.

“I’m new to the city, you see
. Very new. I couldn’t help myself, though.” 

The music was halting
. Linna sensed it more than heard it. There was a moment of time when she toyed with pulling away before another dance began. Raoul hadn’t ceased moving.

“I saw you from across the floor
. It took my breath. I’ve rarely beheld such a beauty. I don’t even know your name, and you’ve an aversion to looking at me. I hope it’s not because I’m…displeasing.”

She nearly snorted
. “Oh no. Not at all. No.”  She took a deep breath and slanted her chin slightly. All in preparation for meeting his gaze. He thought her shy? She held the satisfaction deep where it wouldn’t show. “I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

He wasn’t meeting her eyes
. He was staring at her bodice, and sucking in a breath, shuddering slightly, before moving his gaze to hers. Those moss-colored eyes held hers. There was a starburst of deepest brown at the center of his. Linna forgot to blink. Breathe. Think.

And she didn’t like one bit of it.

He blinked slowly, eyelashes the same dark shade as his hair shadowing his cheeks, and the look he gave her now blazed a path right into her. Linna moved her gaze quickly way. She hadn’t any experience to deal with any of it.    

“Have you many dances left on your card?”

“What?”  It didn’t make it to sound, but he must have heard it because he answered as if he had.

“If so, I’m claiming them
. If not, I’m still claiming them.”

“What?” 

This time, she spoke to the lace at his throat. She didn’t look any higher. She had to gather her wits. Strategize. Recalculate. It felt like she was melting. And that meant she was losing. Another taste of looking into his eyes and she’d probably forget about her plan and how much it meant. She didn’t have to question it.

She knew.

He chuckled, this time loudly enough to hear. Linna moved her body a fraction closer and ordered her mind to function. This was definitely
the man
. Definitely. Her fingers slid up and over his velvet-covered shoulder, marveling at how thick it was. She could barely reach the seams sewing front to back. Part two of the plan. She had to concentrate on that and only that. Always.

“I’ll not let you go easily
. Not now. I can’t believe how you feel in my arms, how pleasant you smell...and how enticingly you’re put together. All of which is incredibly indiscreet of me to say. I don’t even know your name.”

“I
—.”  Her voice stopped.
Say something, Linna! Refute him.
It was definitely against her goal to argue with him. Her mind raced.
Which should it be? Maidenly shocked? Easily available? Seductive? Innocent? Which?

“I go too fast
? I beg pardon,
Mademoiselle
. Perhaps it’s the dance. Perhaps the evening. Perhaps both.”

Linna made her decision
. It was going to be a combination of reactions. Enough to intrigue and captivate. She had time for part two. She had the rest of the evening. She lidded her eyes before looking up at him, and then sucked her lower lip into her mouth before releasing it. She’d done it on numerous occasions. It worked perfectly. She could tell by his swiftly indrawn breath and the instant tensing of his entire frame, starting with where she had her hand pressed.

“My name is Linna,” she whispered, putting a slight note of huskiness to the sound
. “Linna Maria Daniels.” 

CHAPTER FOUR

The shiver surprised him
. Cord looked down at those liquid brown eyes and felt his back muscles clench spasmodically. Who was he to ruin her? Embarrass and defame her? What had she done? Nothing.

He didn’t have to ask
.

He just knew
.

She exuded innocence
. She was also totally desirable. The costume Simons had designed didn’t have much room in the breeches. He had to keep Linna from looking down. He didn’t know what she’d do. She might run screaming from his arms. Any virtuous woman would.

He flushed and looked above her head
. Cursing wasn’t going to stop this inferno. He had to. It wasn’t going to be easy. He took several deep breaths and held them, amazed that he was still in rhythm with the music with her in his arms. If he didn’t get himself under control, there wasn’t an acceptable way to exit gracefully. He wondered if Simons had outfitted him like this purposely.

He caught the little Frenchman’s eye on him and knew it was a wasted question
. Simons toasted him silently from his position beside the entry doors. Cord groaned lightly.

“Have I done something...wrong?” she asked.

“Oh no.
Non, cherie
. You’re perfect. It’s just a bit hot in here. Would you be caring to stroll to the refreshment table?”

“If you don’t think it too forward of me,” she replied instantly, although there was a rosy shade to her cheeks.

Cord moved to one side of her. If she’d been a little taller, her skirts would have hidden him. Since she was so small, he had to find another option. He put her in front and to the side of him, keeping distant as he steered them toward the table. It was the best he could contrive. He really needed a whiskey.

He probably should have visited a bawdy house he decided, accepting a glass of punch from another of Fletcher’s men, Birdie, who winked
. Cord stopped another groan. He knew why he hadn’t visited another woman. He’d wanted to build it up and save it for this one. He was desperate to save it for her.

“It is a trifle hot,” Linna tipped her head to him and Cord gulped
. “I guess I shouldn’t have danced two sets with you. It’s rather forward. I hope you don’t think that of me,
Monsieur
.”

The slight
drop of her shoulder tugged at him. Cord forced a smile, ignoring Birdie’s quick, bird-like motions as he filled more goblets and leaned forward in order to listen better.

“Come, Miss Daniels
. I’ve had my fill of refreshment. I long more for fresh air. Would you accompany me?”  He kept one hand on her elbow, holding her ahead and in front of him again. He hoped she wouldn’t guess the reason.

“I probably shouldn’t...but...you’re a gentleman, are you not?”

“Most assuredly,” he replied.

“I’ve never met a titled gentleman before,” she murmured, tilting her head to speak to him from over her shoulder as she put just the slightest emphasis on the word ‘titled’.

“Ah. I have misled you. I have no title. I’m just plain Raoul Larroquette.”

“You’re...some relation to the Marquis, perhaps?”  She asked it in a light, flirtatious tone, but beneath it was a hint of purpose
. He immediately guessed what it was and it stunned him.

She was a gold-digger
? It seemed impossible. With all the Daniels wealth? Unbelievable. She was very interested in his answer, however. Cord’s eyes narrowed. If she were as heartless as she sounded, he was holding a rein on himself for nothing. Maybe she might deserve what he was being paid to do after all.  

They’d reached the large double doors
opening onto the verandah. They weren’t the only couple to take a bit of fresh air he noticed, taking it all in with a glance. There were two porch swings, both occupied; several long benches at the edge of the light, similarly occupied; and large shrubbery all about the enclosure. There were also at least three, stern-faced matrons sitting on one bench, effectively chaperoning the goings-on. He saw all of it. Years at the hands of the British fleet taught him that trick. You only got a moment or two to evaluate any situation. You didn’t waste them.

“Have I said something...wrong?” she asked.

Cord kept a hand atop the one she’d draped over his forearm and stepped off the porch with her. It wasn’t expected but the rain had broken, leaving it humid, hot and windless. The lush grass beneath his feet muffled every step. That was much better than mud.

“Of course not,” he replied.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t be out here.”

“You’ve a chaperone I need speak with?”

She smiled slightly, as if to herself. “No. It’s nothing like that. I have no one...like that.”

“Then what’s to stop us
? There’s enough lighting and I can see several unfriendly matrons hovering about. You appear quite safe. I may not have a title,
Mademoiselle
, but I am still a gentleman, as I already said.”

“Oh
. I’ve offended you. Forgive me.”

For some reason, she sounded like she was about to cry
. Cord looked down at her and felt an insane desire to sweep her into his arms and take her with him and to hell with Fletcher, Daniels, and just about everything else.

“It’s just
—I just....”  Her voice ended for a moment while she cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t want you to think of me as-as a woman...who...you know.”

Oh, he very much thought of her in that manner
. Exactly like that. He’d been paid to think it. Everything on his body was primed and ready to act on it. He sucked in on his cheeks, begged his mind to work, and started speaking. “I must have stated my case badly,” he started.

“Your case?”  She answered in a cold tone
. Cord wondered what that meant.

“
Oui
. My case. I may be new to the territory but I know the rules. A gentleman must have certain things to his credit.”

“We’ve just met
. And I shouldn’t stay out much longer. Our absence...will probably get noticed.”

Probably
? It was an absolute fact that they were being watched as they spoke. Cord knew it. He could just make out what was the shadowy figure of Rex Fletcher where he was silhouetted against a tree, not to mention the matrons who were whispering and pointing toward them. He’d been in the spotlight more often in his life than not. He knew exactly what it meant. Trouble. Fact was, if you got into the spotlight, you usually got trouble.

Cord frowned
. “You’ve a guardian I must speak with? I must think. By myself, I may not be enough.”

“Enough...?”

He could have sworn she caught her breath. He wondered if any woman received a proposal within minutes of meeting a man. It was the best he could think of to get her alone. With him. For an hour...maybe two. That’s all he’d need.

He wondered why his tongue had grown so thick and his mind numb
. It probably had to do with her nearness, the charms she was displaying over the tops of her bodice, and the intoxication of her smell. Or maybe it was his own self-imposed drought. Or a combination of all of it.

He cleared his throat
. “I may not be titled, but I’m a distant cousin of the Marquis…a very wealthy cousin.”  He emphasized the last words.

She drew back as if he’d slapped her
. Cord could see the dismay on her face in the light from one of their lanterns. His frown deepened.
She isn’t a gold-digger?
Then he knew for certain by her very next words, said in a cold, clipped tone.

“I find conversing with you further would be a waste of my time,
Monsieur

Larroquette
. I wish you to know I am thoroughly insulted. Wealth such as you mention means little to me. I would like to go back inside now. Right now. I’ve had quite enough fresh air.”

She was turning purposely back toward the steps
. Cord caught her up by the waist and lifted her to him. With the same motion, he stepped beneath the shadow of a roof overhang. Her gasp was the only sound she made. He winced as he held her above the ground, waiting for her shaking to calm. He was amazed that she wasn’t screaming and pummeling him, as well as it looked like not one other person in the garden appeared to have noticed.

“If you do not unhand me this moment, I’ll scream.”

He didn’t doubt her. He bent his head toward the ear peeking from beneath a curl. “Not until you listen to me! Please listen. Please?”

“Unhand me,” she repeated, in a quieter tone.

“If I do, will you run from me?”

“Why shouldn’t I
? You’ve insulted me, and now you man-handle me. Why shouldn’t I run screaming back through the doors?”

“Because I’m begging you not to.”

She was silent for so long, Cord wasn’t certain how to proceed. He was proving one thing for certain. He wasn’t equipped for flirting with a young, innocent woman. Not anymore. He was very adept at one thing, though: being on fire for her. Fletcher was obviously going to get his money’s worth out of this. Cord’s lips twisted bitterly at the thought.

“Go on,” she said finally.

Cord let the breath ease slowly from his body. She wasn’t going to scream and bring unwanted attention to him. He relaxed his grip on her, lowering her to stand in the enclosure he made about her with his arms. He was afraid she’d spot the tremor he was carefully controlling. Then he started speaking, saying the first thing that came to mind. “You must forgive my words. I said them wrong. I just—uh. You’re just—”

She swiveled her head a bit, almost connecting his lips to her cheek
, and his body’s response over-rode his mind, making his words a jumble of unfinished sentences. Cord fought desire and fought it hard. She had to feel his quaking. He wouldn’t be able to keep from ravishing her on the spot if she moved any closer to him. He had no idea he’d lost so much civility. He lifted his eyes above her head and blew a breath over the chestnut hair, watching a strand sway with it. He hoped his voice wouldn’t betray him. He cleared his throat. “I—I am not...good with words.”

That was stupid, Cord
, he told himself. Not good with words? That much was obvious.

She giggled softly
. His eyes went wide, his belly concave as he sucked for air, and only supreme will kept him from grabbing her to him. He knew she’d spot his trembling now. It wasn’t possible to keep it hidden. He had to command his own arms not to grab her up. She twisted slightly and tipped her face up to him. Cord let the breath out and drew another ragged one in.

“Go on,” she whispered.

Dear God! Her breath is as sweet as the rest of her!
Cord tormented himself with what she must taste like. He shook with it. He fought it. He gritted his teeth and endured it. Then he settled for moving his head from side to side to clear it, and for some reason words came to him.

“I
—I can’t describe it. I can’t think. I’ve never felt the like. I swear. I know I sound mad. How is such a thing possible, you’re asking? No more than I do, let me assure you. We’re strangers, and yet I...well, I feel like I have so little time! A dance isn’t enough time!”

“For...what?” she whispered.

He let out some of his pent-up breath. Words went with it. “I know my lone asset. That’s why I spoke of it. I have little to offer...save my wealth.”

“Surely you jest.”

The girl spun completely in his arms and looked up at him. Cord locked his hands together behind her back and forced his own body not to pull her fully against him. The thought of her softness pressing against him was more than unbearable. It was absolute torture. He was grateful it was shadowed and dim under the roof edge. He was afraid of what she might spot on his face. He probably looked like the animal he’d become.

“Are you seeking compliments
? Because if you are, you can march right back in there and find another female. This one is not listening!”

“What?”  He shook his head to clear it
. She’d been speaking, but all he’d seen was her mouth moving. She had lips just made for kisses. She looked like she could give as good as she got, too. She began mouthing more words at him. Her lips glistened with them. A kiss from her wouldn’t be enough. It would be the spark to his inferno. He knew it. He’d thought of it often enough in the past eight weeks when nobody was looking. He’d pulled the locket from where it was kept against his belly flesh...gazed into it...and let his imagination go where his body couldn’t. He tipped his head forward, flexed his fingers against her back to bring her closer and very nearly made kissing her a reality.

“...isn’t one of them in there that wouldn’t accept your attentions without so
much as a pence to your name! I’ll have you know—”

Her lips looked soft, dewy, and coated with honey....

Cord went ramrod stiff. He barely caught the kiss before he made it fact. He didn’t believe he kept the tormented groan silent. He couldn’t just man-handle a kiss from her! Not now! Not with the audience they had. Why, if he behaved with that much barbarism she probably would scream. He wouldn’t survive the attention, either. There were bounties out on all of them. Cord turned his head aside, clenched his jaw, and suffered through one fragrance-filled breath after another. He wasn’t trembling anymore either. He was shaking in place. It didn’t seem possible that she hadn’t spotted it. He eased his fingers away from her back and twisted them into fists.