Perfect Bride (21 page)

He did precisely that, setting off down the path that wound through the garden. Surrounded by flowers, immersed in moonlight, he guided her past trees and hedges.

They stopped near a high stone wall. A profusion of tiny white roses climbed the adjacent side, lend ing the night its fragrant perfume. Nearby was a
wide stone bench. The windows behind them cast a hazy glow of candlelight.

She glanced around. “Very good,” she praised. “Now, since you have your lady alone in the garden, I wonder...would you kiss her?”

His mouth quirked. “A gentleman never kisses a lady before they are wed.”

For an instant she was speechless. Then she asked, “Do you mean to say you would wed a woman with
out kissing her? I would certainly never wed a man without kissing him!”

Her emphatic declaration nearly set him off. It oc
curred to him somewhat belatedly that the chit was flirting with him!

And doing quite a smashingly good job.

“Well,” he amended cautiously, “I might, if I partic
ularly liked the lady. If I were feeling particularly”— he stole a sidelong glance at her—“amorous.”

“You might? But you’re not sure?”

“No.”

“Oh, dear. Perhaps you need lessons then.”

“Ah,” he said softly. “Now there’s a thought.”

She had turned so that she faced him. The wall was to her back.

Their eyes locked. Their legs brushed. Their fin
gertips touched.

“Perhaps,” she said breathlessly, “you should kiss
me
.”

“Perhaps I should.” He lifted his hands, feigning helplessness. “What shall I do?”

“To begin with, I think you should be closer.”

He moved so that her slippered feet were aligned squarely between his booted feet. The lapels of his
jacket brushed the ruffled bodice at her breast. Very deliberately he placed his hands alongside the wall behind her.

For Sebastian had joined the game with relish.

God, but her expression was priceless. Her gaze skidded to the left, then the right, then climbed to his face. Her mouth rounded, along with her eyes.

He knew the precise moment she realized she was trapped against the wall and trapped against
him
.

His mouth curved, a slow-growing smile more be
fitting a rake than a gentleman.

“Now what?” he asked silkily.

“Well,” she whispered, the sound half strangled, “you must kiss me.” He saw the way she swallowed. “It’s the man who does the kissing, is it not?”

Not always
. His mind filled with images of her lush, sweet mouth pressing warm, wanton kisses down his chest. Her unbound hair swirling around and over his skin, down his belly, clear to his loins. He envisioned that hot, sweet mouth closing on his...

He nearly groaned. What the blazes was it she’d said? Ah, yes.

Some devil seized hold of him. He smiled wickedly. It was she who had begun this game, but by God, he would continue it.

“Tell me how,” was all he said.

He watched as the tip of her tongue darted over her lips, driving him half mad.

“Press your lips to mine,” she directed earnestly.

He gave her a quick, maidenly peck. They touched nowhere...but on the lips.

“How was that?”

“Sadly lacking,” she grumbled. “You must try again. But ...harder this time.”

“Harder as in...more?” he asked silkily. “Or harder as in . . .
this
?”

Bending his head, Sebastian took her mouth in a long, unbroken kiss that was fierce and ravenous and tender all at once.

They were both breathing raggedly by the time he raised his head. Her eyes flicked open to stare directly into his. She was clawing at the wall be
hind her.

“I must commend you, sir,” she gasped. “You are as good a pupil as you are a teacher.”

Sebastian’s hands closed around her waist. With an odd little laugh he caught her into his hungry em
brace, giving in to the need clamoring inside him. Oh, Christ, he thought. This was insanity. Madness. Yet from the start, there had always been a spark be
tween them. Sebastian knew it. And he knew that Devon knew it too; just as he was aware that, in her innocence, she was experimenting. Testing these feelings of desire coming alive inside her. It was up to him to stop it, for he was the one with the experi
ence. If unchecked, he knew where play such as this might easily lead . . .

But all the reasons he should release her flew right out of his mind. For in some strange way he didn’t fully understand, all this was new to him too. He’d been with women before. After all, he was a man with needs and desires, and he had indulged those desires.

But this was different. Devon was different. A voice within warned he should let her go, but there
wasn’t a chance. It felt too good.
She
felt so good. And above all, being with her like this ...It felt so right. It had never been quite so right with any other woman...And when her arms stole around his neck, that spark between them exploded into a blaze.

A surge of pure possessiveness shot through him.

That too was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

She pressed herself against him, making them both tautly aware of the rigid swell of his rod. Her hands found his back. Her nails dug into his shoul
ders. Heat quickened beneath his skin, sending a shudder of awareness all through him.

There was a breath. A sigh. A whisper. All of them his.

“Devon,” he whispered.

She lifted her face to his, her eyes shining like jew
eled amber. “Remember the first time, Sebastian? When I asked why you kissed me?”

He trailed a finger over the tilt of her brows, down the pertness of her nose, the beguiling shape of her mouth. Dear God, he’d never forget.

“I was so afraid you’d never kiss me again, with me being who I am and all—” The words were a tremulous cry against his cheek.

“Devon, don’t.” His arms engulfed her once more. He clung to her as desperately as she clung to him.

“It’s just that ...I thought you were going to... oh, several times . . .”

“I wanted to. A hundred times. A thousand.”

“You did? Truly?” She drew back to look at him, her eyes swimming.

“Yes. God, yes.” His eyes darkened. “I did. Every day. By God, I will—”

And well he might have . . .

But nearby, he heard the sound of a door opening— the terrace.

They both froze.

erhaps it had begun as a game, her light
hearted enticement of this man, for this had been a night like no other. A night of thrills and en
chantment and magic. A night filled with promise....It was much later that Devon asked herself where she had ever found the reckless daring to say what she did. To do what she did. Perhaps it was be
cause she wanted this day to last forever.

And this night to never end.

For the temptation was irresistible...and
he
was irresistible. Once he had kissed her.
Once
. And for the chance to experience the searing
warmth of his mouth on hers yet again, Devon would have done ...anything.

Indeed, she had.

But he wanted it too.

For though it was she who had begun this game, it
was Sebastian who seized control. His passionate mastery of her mouth left no doubt.

Her heart pounding, she stood raptly as his fin
gers traced over her brows, her nose, the outline of her mouth. And when she gazed into glowing silver eyes, what she saw there made her pulse pound and her heart sing and her nipples grow all tight and tingly. The sweep of hard arms around her back ac
quainted her with every muscle, every sinew. The breeches he wore were skintight and thin, allowing her to feel every taut, masculine part of him...

Everything
.

“Devon,” he whispered.

It came to her then.

It came in the midst of a moment, the midst of a breath, the midst of a heartbeat . . .

She loved Sebastian. She loved his pride. The arro
gance that drove her to distraction. His fierce protec
tiveness of those held near and dear to his heart.

She clung to him, offering up tremulous lips to his, uncaring if he saw clear to her soul and beyond.

But the kiss she so craved was not to be.

“Sebastian?” called a voice. “Devon?”

The footsteps were coming closer.

Sebastian raised his head. Beneath his breath, a curse seared the air—rather long, quite vivid, and startlingly eye-opening to the woman clasped tight in his arms. “It’s Justin. What the
hell
is he doing here?”

The minute she and Sebastian stepped into the drawing room, Dumpling hurtled toward her. Dev on sank down to her heels and was immediately
surrounded by five little balls of fur. The pups yipped and licked at her until she was breathless and laughing.

An indulgent smile lighting his features, Sebastian helped her to her feet.

“My little darlings!” she crooned. “Oh, I missed you!”

“Well, there’s no question they missed you,” said Justin. “I thought you’d be pleased to see them.”

“How thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

She felt Sebastian’s regard as she levered herself on tiptoe to graze Justin’s cheek with lips still moist from the wash of his tongue. She glimpsed a strange expression flit across his features. Was he jealous? Her pulse skittered at the thought.

He lifted a brow. “And where, my dear girl, is mine?” He wasted no time in the query.

The heat in his eyes made her heart race. She wrin
kled her nose. “You forgot Dumpling,” she informed him pertly.

Justin turned to Sebastian, who stood slightly aside, arms folded across his chest.

“Good evening, Sebastian.”

Sebastian gave a curt nod.

Devon’s sharp eyes surveyed the pair, noting the stilted, awkward strain between the two. She accu
rately read the tension in Sebastian’s posture. His shoulders went up, then down, and she knew he fought it. And Justin was having a difficult time meeting his brother’s gaze.

Smoothing her palms down the front of her gown, she raised a hand and pretended to smother a yawn. “Well, Justin,” she said lightly, “I hate to be rude
since you’ve only just arrived, but I think I’ll retire.” An urge to be mischievous bubbled up. “The journey here last night was quite tiring.”

Justin had the grace to look sheepish.

Sebastian escorted her to the foot of the stairs and bid her good night.

“Good night, Devon,” he said softly.

She stood on the second step, so that their eyes were almost level. More than anything, she wanted to reach out, tangle her fingers in the thick hair that grew low on his nape, and bring his mouth to hers.

She knew from the way his gaze fastened on her lips that he wanted it too.

“Good night,” she whispered. She had to force herself to walk away.

At the landing she paused and looked down.

Sebastian hadn’t moved. The burning in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.

When Devon was gone from sight, Sebastian re
joined his brother in the drawing room. Justin sprawled in the pink-and-cream Queen Anne chair near the French doors. His gaze encompassed the marble staircase.

“Why,” Justin remarked, “do I have the feeling I’ve just been duly chastised?”

“Not so. If you had been, you’d know it.”

“Well then, perhaps
you’d
like to have at me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sebastian stopped at the rosewood parquet table near the Chippendale settee. He dipped the neck of a crystal decanter into a glass, then paused.

“Perhaps you’d care for a brandy too,” he drawled.

Justin groaned. “Never again.”

“Promises, promises.” At last Sebastian smiled. He took the chair across from Justin, whose hands were kneading his temples.

“Nursing a headache, are we?”

“My God, you don’t know what a headache is! Be
tween Dumpling yowling the minute Devon left, the pups joining in, and the anvil in my brain ...my God, it was the longest night of my life.”

Sebastian’s smile ebbed. He set aside his glass. “I know the feeling,” he said quietly.

For the longest time Justin just looked at him. “I knew you’d be here,” he said finally. “I had to come.”

“I know.” Sebastian reached for a cigar box from India. Flipping it open, he nodded to Justin—a peace offering, of sorts.

Justin declined with a shake of his head. “Sebas
tian,” he began, “I—” He cleared his throat, then glanced away. “Ah, hell,” he muttered. “
Hell
.”

The ghost of a smile crept across Sebastian’s lips. “That just about says it all, doesn’t it?”

“Damn straight,” Justin muttered.

The ice was broken, the tension thawed.

“If it makes you feel any better, I bought you a case of that Scotch whisky you like.”

Sebastian cocked a brow. “For me or for you?”

“I can’t abide the stuff! Talk about poison!” Justin pulled a face. After a moment he glanced toward the stairs. “I take it I have Devon to thank for calming your temper.”

“You might say that.”

“Quite a change from the woman you dragged in from the gutter that night, eh?”

“Amen.”

“I take it the lessons are going well?”

“Extremely.” But it was a lesson of a far different sort that filled Sebastian’s mind ...Aloud he said, “She beat me at chess tonight.”

“You probably let her win. You always let
me
win.”

“You were a poor loser. You still are.”

Justin arched a sardonic brow. “Well, I won’t argue with that.” He stretched out his legs. “She’s come so far. But tell me the truth, Sebastian. What do you think her chances are for securing a post as gov
erness or companion?”

Justin had just voiced the question that had been nagging at Sebastian for some time now. “It’s not so much her chances, as the fact that I don’t think I like the idea of her becoming a governess,” he stated abruptly. “My God, what if she
does
land employ
ment? She’s young. She’s beautiful. What if the mas
ter of the house decides she’s fair game? I don’t want her to become the target of some man’s lust! And it’s entirely within the realm of possibility. Hell, even probability.”

There. It was out. The very thing that nagged at his insides. The very thing he’d dared not allow himself to ponder these many weeks with Devon as his pupil. He’d lost sight of the true purpose of their les
sons. He’d lost sight of everything but the sheer pleasure of simply being with her! Was it a conscious choice, the way he’d neatly sidestepped the end re
sult? Perhaps he’d kept it at bay on purpose, deliber
ately keeping it dammed inside. Somehow, along the way, the time spent together had become some
thing far more precious—far more meaningful.

And Devon felt the same.

Goddamn it, why the hell did Justin have to bring it up?

“Yes,” Justin concurred. “It’s occurred to me as well.”

A brooding darkness had slipped over Sebastian. Once started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “You don’t know Devon like I do. If that were to happen, she wouldn’t like it. She wouldn’t stand for it.” An awful fear gripped his mind.

Nor, it seemed, was he the only one to feel it. “If that were the case,” Justin observed, “she might eas
ily end up on the streets again.”

“That can’t be allowed to happen.” Sebastian’s mouth thinned. “She deserves a better life than what she’s had.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Justin hesitated. “But there might be another solution.”

Sebastian frowned. “What?”

“Well, I was thinking...perhaps we could find her a husband.”

“A husband!”

Justin leaned an arm on his chair. He looked amused. “Why do you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“Vastly irritated, if you must know. And the way you’re scowling—”

“I’m not.”

“But you are.” The laughter faded from Justin’s features. He was abruptly sober.

“Sebastian,” he murmured, “may I be frank?”

“What, you’re asking this time?”

Something about the way Justin was eyeing him alerted Sebastian. He felt himself tense.

“Sebastian,” Justin said carefully, “God knows I am the last man to consider myself an astute ob
server of human nature. But when the two of you walked in from the terrace, the strangest notion passed through my mind. When I saw Devon on your arm tonight, I could have sworn the two of you were—”

“A stroll about the garden,” Sebastian interrupted coolly.

“A splendid night for it too.”

“Quite,” Sebastian agreed curtly. “And I know what you’re getting at, so let us put the matter to rest. Yes, I have a certain affection for Devon. So do you. But my conduct toward her has always been that of a gentleman.” Why he made it a point of saying so, he didn’t know.

Or perhaps he did.

“I’m not suggesting otherwise,” Justin said. “Be
sides, you’re a marquess. And Devon is—”

He didn’t want to hear him say it. “I’m quite aware of who she is,” he cut in sharply.