Wishes in the Wind (16 page)

Nicole frowned. “I can’t picture Dagger being either wild or uncontrollable. He’s frightened and confused, both of which I intend to remedy. Trust me, my lord. Whatever horrible treatment Dagger received is behind him now. He’ll know nothing but respect and affection, not only from his owner but from his jockey.”

“A most fortunate horse.” Dustin found himself envying his recalcitrant stallion.

“The earl of Lanston,” Nicole repeated thoughtfully. “That name is somehow familiar.”

“You heard me say it a dozen times last summer,” Nick broke in swiftly. “Remember? Like I just told the marquis, I rode for Lanston at the Goodwood Stakes.”

“No, that’s not it.” Nicole shook her head. “I heard his name recently. Quite recently. I just can’t remember when and in what context.”

“Perhaps you heard me mention the earl to Brackley today,” Dustin suggested. “Lanston referred a superb trainer to me. Raggert’s his name. I hired him this morning. He’ll begin at Tyreham in a day or two. I think you’ll enjoy working with him—or rather, Alden Stoddard will.”

“I’ve met Raggert,” Nick said, looking strangely relieved by the turn the conversation had taken. “Seen him work, too. He’s good.”

“No, it wasn’t this morning, and it wasn’t in connection with a trainer,” Nicole maintained. “Although I’m pleased you’ve hired one who inspires your confidence. But I recall hearing the name Lanston …” Comprehension struck, followed by a deep, heated blush.

“Go on,” Dustin pressed, feeling ah equal measure of puzzlement and uneasiness. Had Nicole met Lanston during a recent racing event? He was a nice enough looking fellow—and certainly available. Had he approached her with his famous charm? “Where did Lanston’s name come up?”

“I—I’m not certain. I think it was at the stables. Yes, that’s it. A few of the jockeys were discussing him.” Nicole turned to her father. “You’re out of tea, Papa. May I pour you more?”

“Yes. Please do.” Nick thrust his cup at Nicole.

“Did the jockeys’ comments embarrass you?” Dustin persisted.

Averting her gaze, Nicole said nothing.

“Was Lanston present at the time?” Dustin’s ire was increasing by the minute.

Nicole’s color intensified.

“Tell me.” Puzzlement was gone, supplanted by icy fury. Dustin gripped his knees, awaiting her reply. Had that womanizing friend of his made advances toward Nicole? If so, Dustin would throttle him. “Have you met Edmund?” he demanded.

“Edmund?”

“The earl of Lanston. Have you met him?”

“No, my lord, I have not.”

“Are you certain? He spends a fair amount of time with his contenders prior to each race.”

“So I understand,” Nicole blurted, obviously reaching her limit. “Most of that time, I’ve heard, is spent placing wagers on the identity of your next paramour.”

Nick groaned and slid down in his chair.

Dustin sucked in his breath. “What?”

“You heard me, my lord.” Nicole poured herself some tea, her hand shaking so badly that hot liquid sloshed into the saucer. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Nicole …” Dustin felt a slash of pain, coupled with a potent combination of guilt and regret: guilt for the fact that he was causing Nicole anguish; and regret that her exposure to the aristocracy had been sordid enough to dishearten her and to reinforce her belief that all noblemen were lechers.

Most specifically, he.

At that moment, Dustin wanted nothing more than to be able to deny Lanston’s implications, to negate the existence of the women in his past, even though their memories had crumpled to dust the night he’d met Nicole.

But the truth was, he couldn’t.

“Aldridge, let me speak to Nicole alone.” Dustin vaulted to his feet, the demand issued of its own accord. “Please,” he added, gentling his tone in response to the faint narrowing of Nick’s eyes. “Five minutes. That’s all I ask. You can pace the length of the hallway and watch the bloody clock the whole time, for all I care. But I need to talk to Nicole.” He gave Aldridge an exasperated look. “Rest assured, even
I
have yet to ravish a woman in five minutes, much less with her father standing outside the door.”

Nick’s glance flickered to Nicole. “Elf?”

Head bent, Nicole nodded. “It’s all right, Papa. I have a few things I need to tell the marquis, as well.”

Slowly, Nick stood. “Five minutes.” He stalked across the room, pausing in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside—in case my daughter needs me,” he added with a meaningful glare. As if to further illustrate his point, he crossed the threshold and pulled the door partway shut behind him, leaving enough space to overhear any commotion that might arise.

Dustin wasted not an instant.

“Nicole, about Lanston’s comments …”

“I have no right to judge you,” Nicole murmured, staring at her lap. “I apologize for my outburst.”

“And I apologize for my past.” Dustin took her hand, pulling her to her feet. “How can I convince you those women don’t matter?”

“You shouldn’t have to. The way you conduct your life is none of my concern.” She kept her gaze level with his shirtfront, plainly unwilling to meet his. “I don’t know what possessed me to speak to you like that. I’m not normally ill-mannered.”

“And I’m not normally an awkward schoolboy. Yet with you, I am. And it is your concern.” He gripped her elbows, drawing her closer. “
I’m
your concern. As you, Derby, are mine.” He glanced from the slightly open door to the clock on the mantel. “We haven’t much time. Your father is like a bloody sentry. So ask me.”

“Ask you?” She peeped questioningly up at him from beneath her lashes.

“Yes. Ask me. To kiss you.”

“To kiss …” She looked utterly dazed—and utterly exquisite. “Dustin, we’re alone here to discuss our differences—why I react so badly to your way of life, your artificial facade.”

He shook his head, tipping up her chin. “No, Derby, we’re alone here to reaffirm what happens when you’re in my arms, which is the very thing that makes you want to run away, to declare us unsuited for each other. Well, we’re not. We’re more perfectly suited than you realize. And I don’t want you to be afraid.”

“I am,” she whispered.

“Nicole.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, savoring the texture he’d ached to explore. “I won’t hurt you. I swear it. Nor am I trying to seduce you. I want more than that from you. But for now, I’ll settle for a kiss, a kiss that I vowed not to initiate until—unless—it was what you wanted. Do you want me to kiss you, Nicole?”

A flush stained her cheeks as she grappled with her decision. “Yes,” she breathed in a tiny voice.

Dustin’s hands were shaking as he gathered her against him, enfolding her in his arms and covering her mouth with his.

He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed her, how desperately he’d wanted to taste her again. Sensations, unknown before Nicole, erupted instantly, submerging him in the same unchartered waters he’d been drowning in since the night they’d met.

Her lips trembled under his, soft and hesitant and so sweet Dustin nearly groaned aloud. He didn’t rush her, taking only as much as she offered, contenting himself with damp, chaste kisses that demanded nothing, yet sought more than he could ever explain.

Slowly, like a tentative flower, Nicole’s lips parted, opening to Dustin’s penetration, silently seeking a deeper joining.

He gave it to her—gave it to them both.

“Nicole.” He murmured her name, his tongue sweeping inside to capture hers, to claim every tingling surface before entwining with hers once more. He lifted her closer, melding her against him, possessing her with an urgency that transcended the mere physical, delved down to his very soul. Her taste was heaven, the feel of her—small, delicate, shivering with her own response—more bloody right than even his memories could preserve. He enveloped her in his embrace, thinking that just holding her, kissing her like this, was enough to bring him to his knees. It was magic, as unique as her candor, as intoxicating as her beauty.

“Dustin …” Nicole’s hands slid up his shirtfront, then paused, knotting against him as if deciding whether to continue their path to his shoulders or to propel her to freedom—now, before it was too late.

Unwilling to consider the latter, Dustin snatched the choice away, capturing her arms and bringing them around his neck. “Hold me,” he commanded, his voice rough with emotion. “Feel what I’m feeling. Dammit, Nicole, don’t run away from me.”

Her eyes opened—those drowning smoky amethysts—and she stared up at him, her gaze searching, struggling … losing. In a rush, she relented, whispering his name and leaning into him, her muscles taut with inner turmoil even as she twined her arms about him, kissed him back with all the fervor he longed to awaken.

For one perfect moment they remained as such—locked together, breathing each other’s needs, sharing each other’s wants.

Then, abruptly, Nicole wrenched herself away.

“This can’t happen.” She backed off, scarcely able to speak.

“Why?” Dustin own voice sounded shattered, his heart hammering so hard against his ribs that it hurt. “Because your father’s in the hall? We’ll find another time, another place—”

“No!” Nicole cut him off, shaking her head wildly. “It’s not because of my father.” Turning away, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to still her body’s shaking. “It’s because of this.” She indicated her fierce reaction. “You want to know why I’m afraid? This is why, Dustin. I’m out of my league, a novice.”

“A novice who’s made a mockery of every kiss I’ve ever experienced,” he answered quietly. “One who makes me feel things I never imagined feeling.”

“Don’t say that.” She bowed her head, her hair veiling her expression like a black satin curtain. “This can’t happen. We can’t allow it to happen.”

“We can’t stop it from happening.” He came up behind her, moving her disheveled tresses aside to kiss her nape. “Nor do I want to.”

“Dustin, please. Think of who you are. Who I am.”

“Who am I, Nicole?” He nuzzled the side of her neck.

She broke away, pivoting about to face him. “A nobleman. My employer.” Her lips trembled. “A man who’s taken more women than he has races.”

“Damn Lanston!” Dustin erupted, teeth clenched against the impotent rage escalating inside him. He didn’t dare shout. The last thing he needed was for Nick Aldridge to come running to Nicole’s rescue. “Damn Lanston,” he growled again. “And damn his insipid gossip.”

“Is it untrue? Exaggerated?”

“Does it matter?” Dustin caught her shoulders. “Nicole, feel me. I’m shaking as much as you are. What difference does it make who I am, how I’ve lived?”

“Because it does,” she answered, wearing that same wistful expression she’d worn the night they’d met, gazing into the starlit skies, tears of emotion glistening on her lashes. “Because I’m an idealistic child who believes in love and fidelity and commitment. Because you live a life that defies every one of those values. Because I refuse to become your next publicly acclaimed paramour or even your discreetly kept one. And, based on all the reasons I’ve just spouted, because unless we stop this attraction before it’s too late, I’ll be forced to leave my job and Tyreham—which, as you know, could be disastrous for Papa.”

Dustin’s thumbs caressed her collarbone, soothing her with gentle, sweeping motions. “I understand your fears. This is all happening very fast. But sweetheart, you’ve got to trust me. Not only here …” He brushed his knuckles across her forehead. “But here.” His fingertips grazed that part of her shirt that covered her heart. “Give me a chance. Give
us
a chance.”

“There can be no ‘us,’” she said in a small, shaken voice. “There can only be Lord Tyreham and Alden Stoddard.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Silence.

“Honesty, Nicole. You’re the one teaching it to me.”

Tears wet her lashes. “No, it’s not what I want, God help me. But, under the circumstances, it’s what I must do not only for Papa’s sake but for mine. I haven’t a choice.”

“Yes, you have.” Purposefully, Dustin reached into his pocket, withdrew his handkerchief, and tenderly wiped away her tears. “Derby, you
do
have a choice. Give me the trust I’m requesting. Let me prove to you that I’m not the incurable hedonist you’ve proclaimed me to be.” He framed her face between his palms. “Can you honestly tell me you don’t come alive when we’re together? Not only when we touch but when we talk? When we laugh? Even when we argue?”

She shook her head. “You know I can’t tell you that. I’d be lying.” Pride interceded, and her small jaw set. “However, in your case, I’m sure you’ve enjoyed such sensations countless times in the past.”

“Never.” His lips feathered across her cheekbones. “Not in two and thirty years. Not with anyone but you.”

Her eyes searched his. “I’m terrified,” she whispered.

“I’m not. I’m certain. As certain as I am that the sun will set tonight and rise tomorrow. Trust me, Nicole. If I’m wrong, then once I’ve resolved this mystery and your father is safe, I promise to let you walk away. Intact,” he added pointedly. “But if I’m right …” He smiled, sifting strands of her hair through his fingertips. “Ah, Derby, if I’m right, then perhaps we can right life’s wrongs and balance its inequities together.”

A soft light illuminated her face. “You remembered.”

“Our first conversation? Every word. Every dream in your eyes. Every hope in your smile.” He held her gaze. “Give me a chance.”

A long pause … followed by a tiny nod. “I’ll try.”

Lord, had he ever known such bone-melting relief? “Good. Start by telling me you’ll see me again.”

Another nod, this one more decisive than the last. “Unless Papa… ”

“He won’t refuse you. He loves you too much.”

“He would if he believed you’d hurt me.”

“And do you think he believes that?”

Again, Nicole shook her head. “No.”

“Then it’s settled.” Dustin bent, brushed her lips with his. “Speaking of your father, he’s probably about to burst in and toss me out. Besides, I’d best get back to the manor. I need to pack. I’ll be away for a day or two.”

A shadow crossed Nicole’s face. “You’re going to see Sully.” Her fingers bit into Dustin’s sleeves. “Papa told me your plans to bait those horrible men who threatened you. I needn’t tell you how dangerous that might be.” Frustration laced her tone. “I dragged you into this situation. I came to you looking for a job, and now you’re immersed in a dilemma that, by all rights, should be mine to contend with. It’s
my
father they want.
I’m
the one who should be incurring the risks.”