Andrea Kane (16 page)

Kassie followed his gaze and flushed. “I probably should not have been. But Braden, it is so beautiful here! The water is so refreshing, the grass so soft!” She broke off. “I suppose a duchess is not permitted such frivolities.”

Braden burst out laughing. “
This
duchess is permitted anything that makes her happy,” he assured her. “I rather like the way you look. It reminds me of the enchanting little girl I met three years past.”

Kassie lifted her wet skirts in a mock curtsy, providing Braden with a melting view of her very bare, very lovely legs—a view that caused him to change his mind abruptly. There was nothing even remotely childlike about the effect she had on his starving body, which leapt to life with painful intensity. Stubbornly Braden fought his physical need for Kassie, which had been building for weeks. Once and for all he was determined to enjoy his wife’s special company without focusing on how much he wanted her.

Kassie had already started laying out their meal.

“I brought everything I could carry,” she informed him.

“I can see that.” Braden was stunned by the quantity of food that was fast appearing on their makeshift table. Platters of cold chicken, roast beef and ham, bread and cheese, fresh fruit and a bottle of port completely covered the large blanket and the grass surrounding it.

Kassie looked up again and gave Braden a sunny smile. “There are pastries as well, but I think I shall unpack them later, if you don’t mind. We seem to be rather short of space.”

Braden lowered himself down beside her. “Are we expecting many guests—say, ten or twelve?” he teased, surveying the feast. “Or are you just trying to fatten me up?”

“Neither. ’Tis just the two of us, and”—her gaze moved shyly over his broad, muscular frame—“I like you just as you are.”

She turned back to her task, but not before Braden had seen the flush that crept over her cheeks. He studied her, fascinated. Her innocence and her total honesty never ceased to amaze him. Such lovely traits in a child … such unheard-of qualities in a woman.

Braden watched Kassie finish arranging their luncheon, feeling something warm and tender unfurl inside him that had nothing to do with lust. When was the last time he had done something as simple and enjoyable as having a picnic? He was so jaded, he mused, so accustomed to his world, a world where nothing remained untainted. To be with Kassie, to soak up her purity and her goodness, offered more nourishment than any food. For what Kassie offered was sustenance of the soul.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten the utensils.” Kassie suddenly groaned with dismay.

“It doesn’t matter,” Braden quickly reassured her.

“How can it not matter? There is no way for you to eat!”

Braden had to erase the look of desolation on her face.

“Did I never tell you?” he asked with feigned surprise. “Dukes must eat with their fingers … on picnics, of course.”

Feeling more carefree than he had in ages, Braden reached forward and helped himself to a piece of chicken.

“Dukes do not eat with their fingers, even on a picnic,” Kassie protested.

Braden gave her a dazzling smile. “This one does.” He licked his fingers cheerfully, helping himself to a slice of ham.

Kassie looked doubtful. “Well, at least we have glasses for the wine.”

With a wicked gleam in his hazel eyes Braden picked up the bottle and put it to his lips, swallowing deeply. “We don’t need them.”

“Braden!”

He lowered the bottle. “Oh, didn’t I mention that fact either? When on a picnic, dukes are further required to drink from the bottle rather than from their usual fine crystal.”

Kassie raised her delicate brows, her vivid eyes dancing with mischief. “I see. Apparently I have more to learn about the nobility than I thought. You must instruct me further, Your Grace.”

He considered her request. “Very well, if I must.” He leaned conspiratorially forward. “The first and most important thing you must know is that dukes and duchesses are required to begin their meals with dessert.”

Kassie nodded thoughtfully. “When on a picnic, of course,” she stipulated in a helpful tone.

“Of course,” Braden concurred.

Kassie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, we do what we must, I suppose.”

So saying, she lifted six rich, creamy pastries and six plump apricot tarts from the bottom of the basket, placing them on the grassy spot between herself and Braden.

“There. Now we may behave like proper members of the aristocracy.”

Braden eyed the confections hungrily. Baking mouthwatering French pastries was one of his cook’s prime specialties. Eating them was one of Braden’s prime weaknesses.

“Since we have no utensils,” Kassie mused, chewing her lip thoughtfully, “how are we to manage these huge, fat pastries?”

Without replying Braden picked one up and held it to Kassie’s mouth. “Bite,” he commanded, his eyes twinkling.

Kassie stared at the flaky confection that was overflowing with cream. How on earth could she fit it in her mouth?

“Bite,” Braden repeated.

Kassie was about to decline when she saw the challenge in Braden’s eyes. That did it.

Opening her mouth as wide as possible, she sank her teeth into the pastry. A small portion went into her mouth. The remainder of it covered the lower half of her face.

She didn’t need to ask how she looked. Braden’s expression said it all. His shoulders began to shake, and he threw back his head with uncontrollable laughter.

“Now you are a true duchess,” he managed, unsure of what sort of reaction he would receive. He was prepared for several: anger, tears, embarrassment. Braden was well acquainted with ladies’ reactions to such things.

He had forgotten something Kassie had told him three years ago. She was unlike any other lady of his acquaintance.

Quick as a wink Kassie leaned forward and in one swift motion pushed Braden’s pastry-filled hand back into his own face.

“And now you are a true duke,” she announced as white cream decorated his chin and nose.

For one moment Braden looked totally stunned. Then he retaliated, lunging at her.

But Kassie was faster. She was already running, a trail of laughter drifting behind her, her bare feet giving her additional speed. Braden lost not a minute but leapt up and ran after her. His long legs gave him the advantage, and he gained on her steadily, catching up with her just as she reached the edge of the stream.

Kassie shook his hand off her arm and splashed into the water, turning to give him a challenging look.

“Well, Your Grace, I must admit that you have been uncharacteristically improper thus far. The question is, are you willing to cast all proprieties aside and come in after me? Or will you concede and admit defeat now?”

She never expected him to follow her, so by the time he was in the stream, knee-deep in water, it was too late. She turned to flee, but her wet gown was a hindrance, inhibiting her escape. She felt Braden’s strong hands grab hold of her from behind, and she struggled against them, gasping with laughter.

“Let go of me!”

“If you insist, Your Grace,” he replied nobly, releasing her all at once.

The next thing Kassie knew, she was on her knees in the stream, totally drenched. The water was icy cold, and it took Kassie a minute to recover.

Braden’s laughter faded, and he frowned, seeing only Kassie’s wet back and bent head.

“Kassie? Are you all right?”

When she didn’t answer he felt a wave of fear.

“Sweetheart?” He leaned over her, trying to see her face, which was hidden by a wet curtain of dark hair. “Kassie? Did I hurt—”

He never finished the sentence. Kassie sat up, a determined grin on her face, grabbed Braden’s arms, and pulled with all her strength.

It was enough. With a yell of surprise he went down in an awkward heap, making a huge splash in the rippling stream. For a moment he sat there staring up at Kassie, silently gauging the distance between them. Then he dived.

He caught her around the waist and lifted her, squealing, over his shoulder, carrying her to the grassy bank beside the water.

“That did it,” he chuckled, lowering her to the ground. “Now my pride is at stake.”

Kassie thrashed about, pummeling at his shoulders and giggling. “I merely wanted to wash the cream from your face, Your Grace.”

“Well, you succeeded, Your Grace. Quite nicely, I should say.” He watched her struggling to free herself, thinking that she looked like a beautiful mermaid.

Kassie felt his gaze upon her, and she ceased her struggle. “Not entirely,” she murmured, reaching up to dab at the small spot of white cream that remained on Braden’s chin and lower lip.

At her gentle touch Braden’s heart began to slam against his ribs. He was suddenly very aware of her lying beneath him, her wet gown clinging to her body like a second skin. He could feel the warmth of the sun beating down on them, the softness of the grass beneath them, the heat of Kassie’s skin burning through their layers of wet clothing. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. The action only served to fill his nostrils with the special floral fragrance that was Kassie.

He groaned as her slender fingers traced the curve of his lips. Reflexively he opened his mouth to bid them entry, letting his tongue graze the delicate tips of each finger until the taste of her was pulsing through every pore of his body. He heard her quiet gasp and opened his eyes, staring at the softly parted lips that beckoned him.

Drunk with a sensation that surpassed desire, Braden lowered his head, claiming her mouth with a hunger that he could neither contain nor deny. He shifted until he lay directly upon her, molding his hardened body to her pliant one and tangling his hands in her wet hair to keep her from ending the kiss.

Ending it was the furthest thing from Kassie’s mind.

She accepted Braden’s kiss, first with shy pleasure, then with tentative eagerness, and finally with uninhibited responsiveness. She succumbed to his unspoken demand, giving him her tongue and taking his in a wild, wondrous mating that surpassed her most vivid fantasy.

Braden’s arms contracted around her, locking her against him in an intimacy that caused shudders of desire to rack his body. All he wanted, needed, was to possess her, to bury himself inside her until they both went up in flames. He tore his mouth from hers, pressing it to her soft neck, her graceful throat, her smooth shoulder. When he made contact with the wet barrier of her gown he tugged blindly at it, pulling it down from her shoulders and the upper slope of her chest to expose her bare skin to his greedy touch.

“Kassie …” He wasn’t aware that he said her name. All he knew was sensation. He buried his face in the fragrant hollow between her breasts, knowing that no other woman had ever felt this good, knowing that he couldn’t stop, not yet.

Kassie shifted restlessly, and Braden tugged again, bringing the gown down to her waist, trapping her arms against her sides.

He couldn’t stop staring. Never in his life had he seen breasts this beautiful, a pure, untouched ivory with pale pink nipples that had known no man’s gaze. A surge of possessiveness shot through him, and with a shaking hand he reached out to cup her sweet flesh.

They both moaned at the contact. Braden’s reverent gaze lifted to Kassie’s stunned one.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers, “I won’t hurt you. Just let me touch you.”

He didn’t wait for an answer but took her lips in a scalding kiss just as his thumb moved ever so lightly across her hardening nipple.

Kassie whimpered, raw sensation exploding inside her. Never had she imagined anything so intimate, nor anything so wonderful. Her breasts ached for Braden’s touch, and she clutched at his powerful arms, wanting to bring him closer, needing more of the heady sensations he was giving to her.

Braden lifted his head, his hot gaze returning to her swollen breasts, and he lowered his dark head to where his hands had been. Gently he drew her nipple into his mouth, tugging it lightly between his lips and soothing it with his tongue.

Kassie cried out and arched helplessly against him, offering him more of herself. Braden took her unspoken invitation, intensifying the pressure of his mouth until he was beyond rational thought, so caught up in her cries of pleasure that all his noble intentions were lost. He grazed her nipple with his teeth, then laved it with his tongue, only to move to the other breast to do the same. He was intoxicated, the sweet taste of her creating a bottomless craving inside him that only their joining could fill.

Control vanished. Reason vanished. There was nothing but the need that drove him, blazing through his body like a brush fire, igniting every part of his being.

Frantic for release, Braden slid his hand beneath the wet layers of Kassie’s gown and petticoat, up the smooth skin of her thigh, until he reached the warm haven where he desperately wanted to be. Slowly, unerringly he found the opening in her pantalettes and slipped his fingers inside.

Kassie tensed, unintentionally crying out at the unfamiliar invasion of her body. Her growing pleasure receded beneath a fear of the unknown … and an innate need to protect herself from the helpless vulnerability that possessed her when she was in Braden’s arms. She wanted him desperately, and yet she was frightened by the total self-relinquishing this untried act demanded.

She was already hopelessly in love with him. She could not sacrifice her very soul to him as well.

“Braden … don’t …” At first it was a whisper, but when he made no move to comply she began to fight him, saying the words over and over, her whole body shaking with emotion.

Braden felt her resistance and lifted his head. His mind was cloudy with desire, his hand inches from where it needed to be. And yet something inside him commanded that he stop. Something he did not understand but needed to obey.

“Please,” Kassie whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Don’t.” She unconsciously used the very words that he dreaded. “I’m afraid.”

Braden felt ill. He stared down at Kassie’s beautiful, frightened face, and he was consumed with frustrated anger and self-loathing.

“Kassie,” he murmured, lifting his hand to her face. Thank God she didn’t flinch. He didn’t know what he would have done if she had.