The School for Brides (12 page)
Read The School for Brides Online
Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith
She was dressed for war. If His Grace thought she would climb into his bed warm and willing, he was sorely mistaken. He would have to fight for her with all the seductive talents he possessed. She would be no man’s easy whore.
With a last sigh, she left the room.
H
is Grace’s rose-decorated town house was dimly lit when she arrived an hour later. The footman led her into a large dining room.
is Grace’s rose-decorated town house was dimly lit when she arrived an hour later. The footman led her into a large dining room.
The stuffy space was lit with a row of burning candles along the center of a long table, and two huge vases of flowers of every color were placed as centerpieces on the wood surface, with not a single rose mingled among the blooms.
His Grace sat at the far end of the table. He was casually attired in his shirtsleeves with his shirt partially unbuttoned at the neck. A glass of some sort of spirit was in his hand. The candlelight flickered over his features, framing him in gold against the backdrop of shadowed walls.
He brought to mind a handsome gothic romantic hero of legend, tucked away in a castle waiting for an innocent virgin to come along to chain to his bed for his pleasure.
Chained for pleasure? Eva tried not to imagine herself reaching out her chained hands to caress his broad chest, but the image came unbidden. If she was his captive, how far would she go to gain her release? Would she kiss him? Would she let him remove her clothes and touch her breasts? Between her legs?
It was a shocking image—but even more shocking was her aroused reaction to it.
He sipped his drink, staring at her over the rim of the glass.
“Miss Black.”
“Your Grace.”
She stood in the doorway after the butler withdrew, trying to hide her apprehension. She marveled at the darkness in this handsome man who would force her into this bargain without a care for her feelings. But of course, men of his stature felt entitled to take what they wanted. And for some unexplainable reason, he wanted her.
Eva breathed in. Her tightly boned corset left her little room for more than a shallow breath. She tugged at her neckline. “That dress is hideous, Miss Black,” he said bluntly.
“I’m sorry it does not please you,” she responded stiffly. Beneath her clothing, her body burned in the stuffy room. Perhaps so many protective layers hadn’t been a good idea. She swayed slightly.
He continued to regard her with a scowl.
“Strip,” he said sharply.
She blinked. “What?”
“I said, ‘strip.’ ” He drank the spirit and poured another glass. “The night is warm, and you seem to be in some distress. Perchance wool wasn’t the best choice of garment?”
The shock of his command froze her limbs and she couldn’t move. “I c-cannot,” she whispered.
N
icholas watched the color drain from her cheeks. The woman seemed to have gained a stone since their last meeting. He suspected that beneath her dreadful gown, she had on enough petticoats and chemises for three women. It certainly would make breathing difficult and lead to light-headedness. There was only one way to ease her suffering. Less clothing.
icholas watched the color drain from her cheeks. The woman seemed to have gained a stone since their last meeting. He suspected that beneath her dreadful gown, she had on enough petticoats and chemises for three women. It certainly would make breathing difficult and lead to light-headedness. There was only one way to ease her suffering. Less clothing.
“I do apologize, My Lady. It seems I have offended you.” He leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “I thought to offer wine and poetry befitting your beauty but suspected you’d prefer a direct approach. Was I wrong?”
Fire returned to her eyes, and he hid his satisfaction when she crossed her arms over her flattened breasts. Her annoyance would keep her upright.
“Your seductive skills are certainly lacking, Your Grace,” she scolded. “I confess I cannot fathom how you ever manage to entice women into your bed.”
His chuckle lifted her chin. “You do amuse, Miss Black.” He watched her watch him. Her eyes caressed his face and moved down to his open collar. While her mind balked, her body was his. All he had to do now was convince her to put aside their differences and enjoy the pleasures two people could share. “I will show you my talents once you have taken off some of those layers of clothing, lest you faint dead away.”
If there was ever a moment tonight where he felt her balk or panic, he’d stop immediately. When she came to his bed, he wanted her willing and as eager for him as he was for her. His intention was to bring her to heel and teach her a lesson about what her interference had cost him in losing his dearest Arabella. Not to leave her battered and abused.
Oddly, the anger he’d felt over losing Arabella had vanished the moment this spinster bit his lip. Eva Black had a fire in her that Arabella lacked, and she intrigued him with her starch and fight. Before this night was over, he intended to make her burn.
“If you cannot undress, Miss Black, I shall be forced to strip you myself.” Nicholas set his glass down, stood, and walked over to her. She flinched but remained where she was, as if her feet were nailed to the floor.
The scent of lilacs drifted around her. She lowered her lids, and soft brown lashes fanned out over her lovely eyes. Those eyes were the windows to her every emotion.
Nicholas lifted his fingers to the strings of her bonnet and paused with gray satin tangled in his fingers. “May I?”
Without meeting his eyes, she nodded weakly. Her skin had a moist sheen. With two tugs, the bonnet was in his hand. He fanned her with it. She was heated, but not with desire. This wasn’t the seduction he’d imagined.
The gloves quickly followed and were cast aside. He wanted to free her hair but decided to leave it to last. Miss Black could keep her mask of spinsterhood. For now.
Nicholas came to a halt behind her and slid a knuckle down the row of buttons that ran from the base of her skull to the curve of her lower back.
“An unfortunate choice of gowns you made this evening, Miss Black.” He leaned to her ear and breathed into the soft shell. The scent of her skin stirred him to the beginnings of an erection. “I am an expert with buttons.”
He thought he caught the slightest hint of a whimper as he began a downward procession through the tiny buttons. When he reached midback, he eased the drab gown down until her pale shoulders and creamy white neck were exposed to his inspection.
From his advantage above her, he let his gaze caress the delicate curve of her neck. His spinster was a delightful mix of softness and strength.
He pressed his lips to where her neck joined her shoulders, and a few short, stray crimson-gold hairs peeked out from beneath the hideous brown wig. They were a siren’s call he couldn’t resist.
His senses flooded with the scent of lilacs and sunshine as he nuzzled his face to the spot.
The taste of her soft skin was nearly his undoing.
E
va closed her eyes tightly as His Grace pressed his lips against her neck. His breath and a light dusting of beard shadow tickled her skin. The whirling room began to slow as the heat eased slightly, now that she was free of the itchy collar of the gown. If her arms weren’t weighted beneath her clothes, she’d pull the remaining layers off herself.
va closed her eyes tightly as His Grace pressed his lips against her neck. His breath and a light dusting of beard shadow tickled her skin. The whirling room began to slow as the heat eased slightly, now that she was free of the itchy collar of the gown. If her arms weren’t weighted beneath her clothes, she’d pull the remaining layers off herself.
For a second time in two days, he was caring for her, though tonight it was as much for his own benefit as it was for hers. Still, he could use her weakness to his advantage but did not do so. Yes, he was undressing her, but her fear was lessening. Once he had her unclothed and cooled, the game would change.
The gown fell away. “Better?” he asked and came around her.
Eva tried to breathe deeply, and failed. “I’m still having difficulty.” She tugged at her corset. He brushed her hands away and worked the lacings.
“You have certainly sacrificed your comfort to arm yourself against my invasion.” He tugged firmly at the corset. “We will remedy that shortly.”
Eva expected the creamy swell of her breasts to escape when released from the boned structure. However, the layers of lacy chemises held fast and saved her modesty. There were many levels of undergarments to shuck off before she could be free.
“I considered stitching a gown of thorns,” she retorted breathlessly. “Then I decided your determination to bed me wouldn’t be put off by anything less than yards of broken glass and steel spikes. And I was completely out of those.”
Good humor returned to his eyes. He dipped his fingers beneath two chemises and held her gaze. Then, with a jerk, he rent the delicate cloth open to her waist. She gasped.
“Two removed, and”—he tipped his head to look down into her partially exposed cleavage—four chemises to go.”
Eva was certain her breasts swelled with anticipation of what he might do to them once they were freed. She was both alarmed and confused. Part of her wanted this seduction to end. At the same time, she wanted him to take away the restrictions of her spinsterhood and allow her to experience, just once, how it felt to be desired and loved by a man.
His Grace was without a doubt the finest figure of man she’d ever seen, and he knew how to use his seductive talents to invoke her response. In spite of her distaste for the man, she was finding it difficult to stay detached with the scent of soap and brandy swirling around her, and the warmth of his hands at the ribbon on the outer chemise.
“I think you are not as repulsed as you’d like me to believe,” he said softly, and ran a fingertip along the skin above the lace trim. Her heart tumbled erratically and her eyes drooped closed. A sigh escaped her lips.
“There is an attraction between us, Miss Black. You feel it, too.”
Eva opened her eyes with a scowl. He circled her and slid the chemise off her shoulders, to her waist, and then to her hips. Breathing was much easier now, and his hands bolder, splaying across her buttocks as he eased the chemise ever downward.
“You delude yourself, Your Grace, if you think I am not suffering. You cannot know how deep my hatred is.” She could not make the words sound convincing, even to herself. It was impossible to think when the duke was caressing her rump.
He chuckled. The chemise dropped into the pile of discarded clothing at her feet. He bent forward to press his cheek against hers and gathered her into his arms. She nearly melted in his embrace. “Perhaps we should wait until you have spent the night in my bed to decide if you hate me still.”
Such arrogance! “Make no mistake, Your Grace.” As he caressed her ribs, then slid his hands up to pause just below her breasts, a low moan escaped her and she arched back against his chest. The duke needed no further invitation. His hands splayed open to cup the full flesh. Gently, he teased her nipples through the thick layers of cloth, and they hardened beneath his play. She gasped. “I will loathe you to my dying breath.”
Her body ached deliciously in places it should not. He released her and continued with chemise removal. He nibbled the exposed skin of her shoulders as he peeled off her clothing, one item at a time. She couldn’t focus on anything besides his hands and mouth, and the deep, powerful need inside her.
It was the coolness of the room that alerted her to her near nakedness when her drawers slid down her bare legs. With a last burst of virginal modesty, she tried to cross her arms over herself to keep the last thin chemise. But he loosened the laces and the thin cloth gaped. Her hands kept her breast from exposure. Cotton and wool were piled up to her knees already, but she couldn’t give up this one final barrier.
He bent and swept her into his arms, kicking aside the garments. Then he lowered her back to her feet, placing himself behind her. She was so intensely aware of him that he didn’t need to touch her so that she could feel him infuse her with his presence.
“Please,” Eva begged as his hands cupped her hips and moved lower to caress her thighs. His chest pressed intimately against her back, and she felt a hard ridge at the cleft between her buttocks. She was weak and hot, unable to put into words what she wanted. There was no previous experience to guide her.
A chuckle broke his silence. He walked around her, always touching, and ran a fingertip down the curve of her jaw. She could no longer use her clothing as an excuse for her intense and wavering emotions. She wanted him. Desperately.
“I never expected to find such delightful curves beneath your hideous gowns, my dear. But I fear the unmasking is not complete.” He tugged off her spectacles and reached to set them on a nearby table. “You have lovely amber eyes. It’s a shame to cover them needlessly.”
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