The Outrageous Debutante (26 page)

His kiss was a confirmation of the care, the depth of compassion that she heard in his voice. Gentle, lingering, a warmth of comfort for a damaged soul until her tense muscles softened and she clung to him in relief and gratitude. Until the gentle warmth of the kiss flared into heat and need, a desire that could not be denied, when the light around them became too bright, the colours too intense. Their senses were stripped naked before the onslaught of their love, leaving Nicholas in no doubt that she was as lost as he.

But he still did not know of the reason for her strange behaviour in London, when he had been so sure that she had deliberately set herself to put distance between them. In effect, to drive him away. He dare not ask her and closed his mind against it.

Nothing must be allowed to encroach on this summer idyll.

Time came to have no meaning for Nicholas and Theodora, measured only by the days and hours and minutes—seconds, even—which they spent in each other’s presence. In each other’s arms. It was a compulsion, an obsession, heightened by the brush of hands, the touch of lips. Nothing outside their two selves had any meaning.

So, riding on the edge of the estate, they were unaware of the changes round them as the clear light leached from the sky. Storm clouds banked to the west with a sultry heaviness. The first presentiment that they were far from home and the weather would break was a chilling ripple of wind. The sun disappeared behind encroaching high cloud, the far hill withdrawing into an enveloping mist and the first swirl of rain. Picking up the scent of the approaching storm, the horses danced in the freshening breeze, eager for their stable.

There was, of course, the temptation of a nearby barn.

‘Well, my lady? Do we take the barn?’

‘Or do we get wet?’ Thea’s face glowed with the sheer joy of life, of being in the presence of the man she loved. Of being able to reach out and touch him whenever the thought arose.

Nicholas turned his head, picking up her mood. ‘Will you then gamble. Will we run the storm?’ The wildness of the approaching elements was in his blood. There was a reckless challenge in his face that she loved and it seduced her utterly. She saw the challenge and loved it, allowed the seduction.

‘Yes. And yes.’

‘Come, then.’ He stretched out a hand in imperious demand, manoeuvred his bay close, then leaned to allow an arm to steal around her waist. A kiss. Necessarily brief, a mere meeting of mouth on mouth. But hot and hard, a thrill of passion, of burning need.

For a moment her lips parted beneath his, her heart increasing its beat, a pulse that shook her and had nothing to do with the storm, but everything to do with the fever that engulfed her at his touch, the sheer sensuality as his tongue outlined the delicate shape of her lips.

Then he released her. ‘Let us do the thing.’

And they fled before the storm, the rain and wind urging them on.

A crazy ride. At full, headlong gallop, control stretched to the limit. Sleek lines and straining power, horses and riders moving as one. They leapt small obstacles, ditches and hedges. Flew as if the hounds of hell pursued them in full cry as thunder rolled over the hills of Burford Edge behind them.

And the heavens opened, a deluge that drenched them to the skin in seconds. Thea failed to suppress a shriek as cold rain fell on her heated flesh. And laughed aloud with the exhilaration of it.

Nicholas slowed the pace. ‘Do we shelter?’ He had to raise his voice over the lash of wind and rain.

‘No. Home.’

They picked up the pace and soared over the stream that bordered the home pasture. Extending again to thwart the worst of the relentless downpour. When they clattered into the stableyard and Nicholas lifted her down, the steaming horses were turned over to waiting hands and they ran for the house. Madness was in their blood, as elemental as the lightning that flashed across the sky.

In the entrance hall they stood on the worn slates and dripped. And looked at each other.

‘I am drenched.’ Thea tentatively lifted the clammy skirts of her velvet riding habit.

‘And I.’

‘We lost the gamble.’

‘Did we?’

The shock of recognition between them was beyond experience, as electric as the storm that raged without. Breathing shallow, their eyes caught and held. It was impossible to look away, one held captive in the existence of the other. Chains of pure gold bound and held them—and neither resisted the gentle but inexorable tightening of the bond.

Nicholas smiled, both tender and a demand. Held out his hand, as he had at the onset of the storm. And Thea, breath
caught in her throat, was compelled to respond, palm to palm, fingers interlocked. A remarkable seduction that tempted and beckoned them on into a depth of emotion and desire which neither could have envisaged. And both fell.

‘My lord.’ Mrs Grant had arrived unnoticed. ‘I see you were caught in the storm. And Miss Thea.’ She clucked indulgently at the puddles on the floor as she approached. They looked like children daring the power of the elements, she thought. Carefree. And Nicholas—as if a boy again, shedding the responsibilities that he had so willingly shouldered. Energy and vitality burned through him, his face alight with it.

‘Can I be of help?’

‘No.’ Her question brought them back to the present. ‘Thank you, Mrs Grant. No. I will deal with it.’ His smile was preoccupied.

With Thea’s hand in his, they climbed the stairs together, leaving the housekeeper to watch them.

No. Lord Nicholas was no longer a boy. The expression Mrs Grant had seen in his face and eyes had nothing to do with youth and immaturity. She hoped fate would be kind to him. And stepped back into the shadows.

This vibrant, laughing girl had brought him to life again.

No further words passed between them. They were beyond speech as they came to a halt at the head of the stairs where decisions had to be made. Nicholas tightened the clasp of his hand on hers, the slightest pressure, his gaze questioning. Theodora responded by moving to his side. Answering the unspoken, he led her along the corridor to his bedchamber.

Outside the storm raged on—capricious gusts of wind swirling the rain to lash unmercifully against the windows, distant thunder rumbling ever closer over woods and hills. Thea and Nicholas stood within his room, the door barred to all, oblivious to the onslaught. Within that wood-panelled room, safe and warm and offering every comfort, the elements were set to rage no less ferociously.

‘I want you. I want you every minute in the day, from the moment
that I wake until the second I fall into sleep. Even my dreams are tormented by your presence. Your perfume, your voice. You are in my blood, Thea.’

‘I know it. I know it because my thought mirrors yours.’ How could she not know it? Love washed over her, through her, a relentless tide. She felt the power of his eyes, fierce and intense, a dark midnight blue as they held her own. In response she felt the flush of heat over her skin, a flutter of nervous anticipation in her veins. For him, her smile was answer enough.

‘Shall we ride this storm too, lady?’ Nicholas drew her inexorably toward him, so that he could bend his head and kiss her hands, then take her lips with his own. Impossibly gentle, a mere sensuous brush of mouth against mouth, despite the raging fire in his blood.

‘We can match the glory of anything in nature’s creation.’ Her lips parted beneath his in confident invitation. ‘Love me, Nicholas.’

‘It will be my pleasure and my delight, lady.’

Now their breathing was heightened. Their movements driven by unrestrained need, as wild and urgent as the summer storm. Soaked garments, boots were quickly stripped away until nothing existed between them except the charged quality of the air. Until he lifted her high in his arms, to fall with her to the bed where they rolled, a tangle of limbs, cool damp rapidly replaced by throbbing heat as skin slid seductively against skin. The lightning that speared across the sky was no more brilliant than the passion which consumed them. Diamond bright, it wrapped them around.

Both were already aroused, he hard as stone, she hot and slick with need, desiring nothing more than to be submerged one within the other as their hands united, palm to palm, fingers meshed. Nicholas pinned Theodora to the soft mattress, hands imprisoned above her head. She needed no instruction now, but opened for him, arching her body in silent demand.

‘I love you.’ She gasped the words as shivers ran along her skin at his dominant power. ‘I love you.’

With one powerful thrust he possessed her. And again. Deep and deeper yet. Thea took him in.

‘Thea.’

His name was also on her lips. Both held suspended in that one moment of glorious joining.

‘Don’t close your eyes.’ His voice was low and harsh. She could not look away from the fierce wanting she could see in his face as he forced himself to hold back, a brief hiatus in the turbulence that threatened to overturn all control. ‘Look at me.’ She could do no other. ‘I want you to see me when I am inside you. As I need to see myself in your eyes.’

‘Yes.’

It was all the acceptance he needed. ‘Then come with me.’

The storm struck with violent intensity, overwhelming them both as they had been enveloped by the rain on the hill. As his mouth took hers, swallowing her cries, he withdrew, thrust again. And again she arched and moved beneath him, as driven and demanding as her lover. All feminine elegance, all gentle curves and sleek planes, but yet wielding total power over his senses. When her nails seared his back, he was unaware. Nothing existed but this outrageous need to own, to achieve fulfilment—and still to pleasure. For even within the rough madness of it all, this furious craving to possess, was his care for her, woven through the tapestry as bright threads of silver throughout the silken texture of it all.

‘Nicholas!’ Thea answered every demand with intense joy. Never had her strong mind been taken over so completely by the commands of another. Her whole world was suddenly narrowed to this one sharp focus, the man who held her captive and governed her every action with such power. When he touched her, when he looked at her, compelling her with those amazing eyes, she no longer had a will of her own—and rejoiced in the knowledge, the absolute thrill of it.

Beyond any control, Nicholas now drove on, muscles screaming, tendons stretched to snapping point. Until the tight wet heat of her body brought him to his fulfilment.

‘Did we survive the storm?’ Thea managed to turn her face to press a kiss against the dark hair. They lay together in the ruins of the bed.

Beyond the room the storm had moved on. In the quietness the wind had dropped and the clouds began to break, allowing the first gleam of hesitant sunshine to brighten the corner of the room. But neither lover noticed the rich glow of linenfold or the return of birdsong, both too caught up in their own world.

‘I think that we might.’ Still buried deep within her, his weight still holding her, his face turned into the pillow. ‘When my powers of thought and movement have returned. They appear to have deserted me.’

‘Your powers were amazing.’ The faintest chuckle.

‘I might have hoped for more finesse. You robbed me of any skill I lay claim to.’

‘You were magnificent.’ Thea knew he was smiling in smug satisfaction, much as she was. Her hands smoothed over sweat-slicked muscle and hard flesh. She stretched luxuriously beneath him. ‘Is it always like this?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Overwhelming. Devastating.’ She nudged him when he did not reply. ‘Are you sleeping, my lord? I shall flatter you no longer if your intent is to ignore me. Now that you no longer have need of me!’ She carefully placed a row of kisses along his shoulder and back again. ‘But is it always like this?’

‘It can be.’ Nicholas lifted his head now to reply with all seriousness. Had he ever known it like this? Where control was at its thinnest, stretched beyond bearing, beyond thought, until he had no choice but to empty himself into her glorious body? No. He thought that he had never known such an unleashed hunger. ‘Perhaps it is not always so … mindless,’ he offered. Because he knew that the craving had driven him to be careless with her. Selfish, if he admitted the truth. She had given herself to him, but he had not brought her to her own complete enjoyment. He felt himself harden again in sharp anticipation at the prospect of doing exactly that. ‘It can be better—and you deserve that it should.’

‘How can it be?’ A little frown touched her smooth brow. ‘You have given me such pleasure. Is the fault mine?’

‘How foolish you are, my dear love.’ He had to kiss her into silence. ‘There is no fault with you. How could there be? But I can give you more.’ He withdrew from her to stretch beside her, still hard. ‘Hold me.’ He took her hand. Both request and demand.

With growing confidence Thea enclosed him to explore the smooth hardness, enjoying his sharp intake of breath as she stroked and touched and heat built beneath her hand. She gave a soft purr, deep in her throat, as the heavy pulse began to beat.

He caught a glint of mischief in her eyes.

‘Well?’

‘It seems that I am not powerless here, my lord.’

‘No.’ He clenched his teeth on a groan. ‘And
you
once begged
me
to have mercy! I believe that you did warn me that you learnt quickly.’

‘So I do. Does it please you?’

‘Yes. As I can please you.’ Sensing the end of control under that alluring caress, he pushed her back on to the pillows. ‘Like this.’ With lips and a slow drift of hands he set himself to pleasure and to soothe, to awaken every nerve ending—and then to arouse again with tongue and teeth. ‘Like this.’ He closed his mouth over her breast, then the other, as the bright wedge of sunshine crept round to illuminate them in a wash of gold. ‘And this and this.’ A ruthlessly, exquisitely gentle campaign until he had driven her to the very edge of madness. But not quite beyond. Not yet. Slowly. So slowly. A steady relentless burn rather than a fiery heat, he built it layer upon layer, flame upon flame, until she was engulfed. Refusing to release her, even when she pleaded in desperation against the intensity of the sensations, until he knew that she could stand no more. Lifting her hips, he slid within her, so easily within that silken heat, now all gilded beauty, to finally drive her over that precipitate edge. When she cried out in shocked amazement, he followed, to fall with her into oblivion. Just as mindlessly, he realised, as before.