Текст книги "Accidentally, Love"
Автор книги: Kate Harper
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 11 страниц)
Oh, how hypnotic was that devilishly deep, velvety voice. That voice, along with those words, had her shivering on the edge of some glorious, arcane abyss. She could not even find it within her to be shocked by his words. She had gone beyond shocked. His touch had scattered anything that might have been reason and good sense. He had withdrawn his hand after that small caress but she found herself desperately wishing he would touch her again. She wanted to protest, to tell him that he was presumptuous beyond measure, speaking to her in such a way. But her body was caught up in a kind of siren song and refused to return her to sanity.
‘Do you know what I want to do right now, Miss Hathaway?’ It might have been her imagination, but she could have sworn that his breath was coming a good deal faster than it had been and his voice was thick.
It took a good deal of effort, but she managed to respond. ‘What?’
‘I want to take you into that conveniently secluded alcove behind us and discover the delights that I am sure lay beneath that very pretty gown of yours. I want to explore your body and teach it to appreciate the possibilities of pleasure – possibilities I am very sure you never knew existed until this moment. But more than anything, I want to feel your hands on me, Miss Hathaway for I suspect that it will give me a measure of gratification that will surprise even my jaded soul.’
Audrey stared up at him, ensnared by the suggestive note in his voice, as much as the words. In truth, she could hardly focus on the words, too caught up in the other sensations that were flooding her.
‘You should not have followed me up here,’ she said, almost despairingly.
‘It’s a little too late now,’ he replied, tone suddenly savage. ‘Dear God, I should be hung for what I am about to do.’
‘What are you about to do?’ she whispered.
‘Don’t play the ingénue, my lovely,’ he grimaced. ‘Not in this. I am going to do exactly what you want me to do.’
‘I should not be here,’ she said again, rather helplessly.
‘No,’ he agreed, reaching for her. ‘I think it safe to say this is the last place you should be.’
Half of her had sensed what he had intended and she was ready for him, moving forward into his embrace. She did not think; there was nothing to think about for he had her then, sliding an arm around her waist, his head bending to shut out the world and that small voice of reason that she had been unable – or unwilling – to heed. Everything, the music, the muffled roar of conversation below, everything vanished in an instant, subsumed by something both potent and perilous and utterly delicious. She had a moment of stunned disbelief that her body could respond so readily but it was quickly drowning in the sensations rioting through her like an avalanche. Her senses were open and aware, taking in the scent of him, the sinuous strength of the arm that pinned her close and the hard, almost shocking vitality of that body as it pressed itself close to her own. Intense sensation cascaded through her, flooding her with so many emotions that she felt overwhelmed. That small part of her that recognized this was madness still clamored to be heard; she should not be allowing him to touch her, let along press himself so intimately against her. She knew that. It was all so much madness. But that tiny voice did not stand a chance, overwhelmed as it was by the swift succession of delicious impressions that his touch generated.
The warmth, seductive and dizzying feelings that set her on fire.
The heady beat of sensuality, keeping rhythm with the steady pounding of her heart.
And beneath it all, astonishment that she was capable of such an intensity of emotion, hitherto unimagined.
All of these intense emotions, this sudden expansion of her sensory repertoire was astounding, the kind of thing a female reads about and secretly dreads and desires but knows she will never discover, no matter how many pining poets or sensational novels one reads, for such things belong in the imagination, not in reality. Except that sometimes, it seemed, a particular man could come along and change one’s expectations entirely…
His long fingers splayed across her back, pressing her closer. The thin silk of her gown was no kind of insulation from the hard muscled strength of him and she felt weak-kneed and dazed.
All this from a touch, she thought dazedly. Dear heavens, what if he kisses me?
And then he did.
She had never been kissed before but now she discovered just how dangerous such an event could be, for every sense that she possessed seemed to come exquisitely alive beneath the delicate, seductive pressure of his mouth. A man like Kirkwood might be expected to lack finesse but from the first, his lips seemed intent on wooing her, warm and insistent yes, but with a gentleness that, after a moment, made her own soften instinctively in response. His lips were a heavenly revelation and every part of her seemed to swiftly understand what she had been created for; this man, this kiss and this glorious moment. Blindly, she reached up a hand and tangled it in the thickness of his dark hair, which felt springy and vibrant beneath her fingertips. She was intensely conscious of the hard strength of his body, the way the material of his jacket scratched against the delicate skin of her chest and the shift of muscles in the arm that encircled her.
She was hot and cold all at once, as if a sudden fever had taken hold.
Her breasts were heavy, nipples tingling and tightening.
And a great pool of delicious warmth began in the pit of her stomach, spreading slowly, extending out until it enveloped her in a warm, delicious pool of enchantment. It turned her limbs to pudding and she was certain that if Kirkwood had not been holding her so firmly that she would have collapsed in a small, quivering heap.
It was all quite extraordinary.
When the kiss deepened, his mouth growing harder, crushing her own beneath the pressure, she welcomed it, pressing her own against his with equal fervor. She had no yardstick to use as a measure but he seemed to be devastatingly good at this particular pastime, guiding her through the process with unerring skill. When the tip of his tongue flicked her lips, she understood that she should open them, allowing him access to the close warmth of her mouth. The sensation of his tongue tangling with her own escalated the wanton rush of wonderment flooding her body and her free arm reached up to encircle his neck, holding on to him as the storm of emotions he had triggered raged within. She was held so very closely to him by now that she could feel something hard pressed against her and, even though she did not truly understand what it was, the feel of it pushing so insistently through the thin material of her gown excited her even further and she moaned as he continued to explore the soft intimacy of her willing mouth.
Audrey had no idea how long the kiss lasted. She did know that she might have stayed there forever – or for a great deal longer – if it had been up to her but it was Kirkwood who finally broke away and then he did so with an abruptness that left her shocked and dazed for he seemed to wrench himself away from her with considerable effort. She stood there, panting a little, looking up at him dazedly while the fire he had stirred up in her continued to rage and her senses scrambled to catch up to what had taken place. Her sudden release had left her feeling bereft and for a long, aching moment she considered closing the distance between them once again so that he could gather her into his arms again and kiss her senseless for a second time…
For a long time, neither of them spoke, merely staring at each other, the air between them crackling with the same primitive energy that one might find in a summer storm. Audrey had never felt so physically alive. Indeed, she had not known she was capable of feeling the way she did now. It was more than a little frightening.
For a long moment she just stood there, incapable of saying anything. Incapable of moving. Then Kirkwood seemed to pull himself together. She heard him let out a long breath.
‘Dear God.’ His voice did not sound exactly right. In fact, the two words came out as a husky growl and she could hear the shock beneath it. ‘Miss Hathaway, I have to say that you deliver one hell of a facer!’
The words were enough to shake her free of her stupor. Slowly, a little trickle of icy understanding slid through her. Now that she was free, Audrey was discovering that unnatural heat could easily be replaced by an equally unnatural chill. It was taking some time to sink in but she was finally realizing that she had just been thoroughly kissed. That she had allowed herself to be thoroughly kissed. That she had, quite astonishingly, not only allowed such a man to kiss her, but that she had kissed him back with a passion that she had not even known she was capable of. The knowledge addled her thoughts almost as much as his kiss had.
‘I…’ she began, then stopped. She could not think of a single thing to say. Indeed, ever since this meeting had gone astray – and she could clearly pinpoint the exact moment, for it had been when he had stepped closer, closing the distance between them and sending her thoughts skittering – she seemed to have lost the ability to generate a full sentence. It was little comfort to know that Kirkwood appeared to be singularly disconcerted as well. He made an obvious effort to take hold of himself.
‘Go back to your family, for God’s sake,’ he said, the words strained with a marked difference to his earlier insouciance. ‘In fact, run back to your family immediately! It is the safest course of action all round, I think.’
‘I don’t know how I -’ she broke off again. Really, she could not collect herself! Her thoughts were flittering like a swarm of butterflies around her head but she felt the first intimations of shame and knew that a great deal more was to follow. The folly of the last five minutes – or however long that kiss had gone on for – was going to envelope her in all manner of unpleasant emotions but at the moment she felt a kind of numb astonishment. It was akin to that moment when one stubs one’s toe on something unyielding; you know it is going to be very painful in a matter of moments but your brain hasn’t yet caught up to the fact. She stared up at him, trying to understand how a perfect stranger – or more, an imperfect stranger – could have aroused such a tempest of sensation within her. She collected herself with an effort. ‘Surely you do not consider that I am to blame for this. You should not have touched me.’
He looked back at her, expression inscrutable, although his dark eyes revealed a disturbing heat. ‘I am well aware of that now.’ He still sounded very peculiar. ‘But it had seemed like an excellent idea several minutes ago.’
‘Mr. Kirkwood, I do not know what happened!’ she blurted the words out in a rush. It was no more than the truth. She must have been mad.
‘No, why would you?’ his voice softened a little. ‘Think no more of it. I take full responsibility. Just go, before I compound my idiocy.’
‘But -’
‘Go,’ he said softly but with a surprising amount of force. His eyes were twin dark fires in the shadows. ‘Now.’
Audrey swallowed, staring up at him for a moment longer. Then she turned on her heel and fled, hurrying from the small alcove, running along the corridor and down the stairs. Her heart was hammering, her palms damp despite the fact that her hands were unnaturally cold. She felt utterly and completely overset. More than ever, she needed a quiet place to collect herself but there was no time to do anything of the kind. Already she had been gone too long and she knew that her mother and sister would be concerned with her continued absence. Besides, where could she go? Her efforts at locating a peaceful oasis had not turned out very well tonight and she could not face stumbling over somebody else as she sought sanctuary – if sanctuary was to be had. Perhaps it was safer to disappear into the crush of people. Kirkwood would not be able to follow her there, if he took it into his head to change his mind. The very idea made her shiver with a dreadful mixture of longing and dread.
Oh, Audrey, how could you have been so very, very foolish? It was a question she suspected she would be asking herself a great deal in the not too distant future.
When she did find her mother it seemed that she had not been gone as long as she had thought for Lady Hathaway merely smiled when she hurried up to her side. Isabella was no longer with her. No doubt she was still dancing with her husband.
‘Was there a dreadful crowd, my dear?’
‘What? Oh… yes there was, quite a crowd. People everywhere.’ She nodded a little absently to the two older ladies that her mother had been conversing with. Mrs. Strand and Lady Porter were old friends and Audrey wondered if they could sense her upheaval. She felt overheated and flushed and found she had to stop herself from looking upwards to search the balcony overlooking the room. Kirkwood would not be likely to show himself up there and she assured herself that she did not wish to look for him anyway. She didn’t, she knew she didn’t. It was more that she wanted to prove to herself that the last few minutes really happened.
Has she really let a man kiss her? Really kiss her? It seemed extraordinary. Almost as extraordinary as the manner in which she seemed to catch fire when he had taken her into his arms…
‘I suppose everybody stopped you to ask about Allingham,’ Lady Porter, a large, amiable woman with a preference for vivid – some would say garish – gowns, drawled knowingly. ‘My dear, you are the talk of the evening.’
Audrey looked at her, a little horrified. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Allingham, my dear. Such a prize.’
Audrey glanced at her mother who must have sensed her dismay, for she patted her arm soothingly. ‘It does not matter, my love. You know perfectly well how Society enjoys its gossip. Just ignore it.’
She wanted to do more than ignore it. She wanted to pretend that the evening had not occurred at all. In fact, there was nothing she would have liked more than to go back to the moment before she had set foot across the threshold of this building, to a time when a man had not taken liberties with her lips, leaving them with a warm, insistent hum that continued on as if they were entirely independent of her, purring like a satiated cat despite the appalling reality of what had occurred. She had no notion how her body could still dwell so pleasurably on how it had been stirred when all she should be feeling was disgust at her behavior.
What had just taken place between Kirkwood and herself had shattered whatever equanimity she possessed and being the object of gossip was simply the last straw. She desperately desired the sanctuary of her bedchamber and a chance to reflect and put the events of the night into perspective. If she could put them into perspective. Just at that moment it seemed far from certain she would be able to do anything of the kind.
‘I’m afraid I have developed rather a headache, Mama. Would it be too bad of me if I went home? You and Belle need not come, of course. It’s just… I feel a little unwell.’
It was not entirely true, but then, it was not exactly a lie, either. She certainly did not feel herself. Her mother was immediately concerned.
‘My dear, are you all right?’
‘Oh… yes. I think it’s the heat and… and we have been out every night this week. Perhaps I am over tired.’ Or over stimulated. Definitely over stimulated. She had to focus all of her attention on not recalling how Kirkwood’s lips had felt against her own. The memory was extraordinarily difficult to banish.
Eliza Hathaway, after studying her for a moment longer, nodded and turned to the two ladies. ‘I do believe we shall have an early night, my dears.’
‘Very sensible,’ Mrs. Strand agreed. ‘A girl needs her rest and I have often said that too much gaiety can spoil one’s looks.’ She spoke with authority. Tall and thin and rangy, Heloise Strand had launched three daughters successfully and could be said to know a thing or two about managing a young lady’s Season. ‘Go home, my dear Miss Hathaway and have an early night. We have Lady Sefton’s rout tomorrow and one would not want to miss that. It is to be the event of the Season.’
‘Or so Lady Sefton hopes,’ Lady Porter observed sardonically.
‘I am sure Audrey will be perfectly well by then,’ Lady Hathaway said calmly and, taking her daughter in hand, they went off to find Isabella to inform her of their departure.
Darius Kirkwood did not immediately leave the shelter of the small alcove after Audrey Hathaway had run from him – or, to be more exact, he had sent her fleeing – but instead had moved deeper into its shadows, taking up a position on the solitary chair that was tucked away inside. He felt as if he needed to collect himself. Hell, he felt as if he needed a drink! Or, perhaps a bottle. And if that would not suffice, then he was prepared to broach several more bottles for that kiss had been singularly unexpected. In fact, it had completely astonished him to the point where he felt unusually shaken. In truth, he felt as if the earth was no longer entirely solid beneath his boots. He had not come looking for the girl with the intention of kissing her. What he’d told her was no more than the truth. Ever since he had heard that his half-brother was interested in Audrey Hathaway, he had been keen to discover what she was like. He had feared Judith’s hand in the matter. It would be just like the woman to insist on the most fortuitous match for his brother, no matter what Roddy’s feelings on the subject might be. Only look what she had saddled poor Constance with. But from the moment he had seen the mother and the two sisters, his fears had been assuaged. He could not imagine his stepmother being particularly taken with any of the three ladies for they possessed an air of warm intelligence that Judith would surely find alarming. If his brother was interested in Audrey Hathaway, it was entirely his choice.
Reassured, he had prepared to take his leave but he had lingered for a time, watching those that considered Almack’s the apex of their social calendar. Once, he would have regarded them all with savage scorn but he had been young then, and still inclined to blame the world for his status as an eternal outsider. It had taken a few years for him to mature enough to know that his life was far more agreeable than many of those who haunted the hallow halls of this very proper establishment. He had the delightful freedom of an excellent income without any of the strictures imposed on others who had been born on the right side of the blanket. The knowledge had been a little slow in coming but he got there in the end.
He was a very fortunate man.
Roderick, 6th Earl of Allingham, was not so fortunate. Did he but know it, he was cursed with the weight of obligation.
Darius had been satisfied with his first look at the Hathaway chit. He had been preparing to leave in search of other, more appealing entertainments when he had caught sight of her disappearing up a narrow flight of stairs. His curiosity had been piqued. Why the devil should a young lady wish to disappear from the secure environs of her chaperone? Only one explanation presented itself and he did not like it in the least, not when the girl was supposed to be on the bargaining table as his brother’s new countess. He determined to follow her and see what she was up to. If she was meeting anybody other than his brother, he wanted to know of it. Better Roddy start his marriage with some expectation of loyalty from his wife and if the Hathaway girl was playing him false already, then he should know that he had made a mistake. There were plenty of women who would be interested in the position. Roddy didn’t have to settle for an impudent – or imprudent – minx.
So Darius had followed her up those damned stairs…
He should have known it was a mistake but he really had not intended anything other than an investigation into her motives. She was, after all, the girl his bloody brother was interested in and, while he might have few scruples about a great many things in life, the one thing he did still possess was a sense of family loyalty, which was ironic as his family cared nothing for him. Still, his father had asked him to look towards his brother’s welfare and Darius had done his best, ensuring that, under his governance, the family funds had prospered. Judith – and therefore Roddy – had resented the fact that the 5th earl had seen fit to gift his illegitimate son with a healthy portion of the Allingham fortune. But he had done his best by them, despite the animosity.
Now he was keen on seeing his young brother wed to somebody who was of his choosing, not his mother’s. Audrey Hathaway’s name had been mentioned frequently in passing conversation at his club and wagers were beginning to be laid as to the date the banns would be read. Darius had only been back in England for a few weeks and had been meaning to look his brother up, if only to wish him happy for attaining his twenty-third birthday. As they did not habituate the same clubs, Roddy probably didn’t know – or didn’t care to acknowledge – that his half-brother was back in town so Darius had elected a visit to Almack’s in the hope of catching a glimpse of the girl and giving Roddy an unpleasant thrill at the same time. The boy was profoundly embarrassed by their relationship, which was understandable even if it was a little tedious. It wasn’t as if their father had kept them apart. Indeed, the old man had done all that he could to ensure that his two sons had some kind of relationship. It might have worked if the Countess of Allingham had been a different woman. But Judith had never been able to separate the sins of the father from the existence of the son. Darius knew that now that his legal obligations were over, he was unlikely to see either of his half siblings again.
After what had happened that night, it was probably just as well.
He frowned, recalling the way Audrey Hathaway had looked up at him, the way her mouth had suddenly seemed so soft and full that he had been unable to look away, his senses entangled by escalating speculation on how those soft lips would feel beneath his own. It was as if he had been entranced. He had no idea when it was he had decided to kiss her. Indeed, he could not remember when it had entered into his head. All he really knew was, reaching for her had been the most natural thing in the world and he had done so without a second thought.
If he were inclined to in anyway absolve himself of folly, he knew that he had not meant to kiss her. Girls such as Audrey were not the usual grist to his mill. There were plenty of females who were prepared to allow themselves to be made love to; young wives, not so young ones and the more adventurous debutantes were more his style. But females such as Miss Hathaway were strictly off limits. And females on the verge of becoming engaged to his brother were in a forbidden class of their own. However acrimonious his relationship with Roddy had been upon occasion, he would never do anything to deliberately hurt the boy. Somehow, something had gone horribly wrong with his plans for the evening.
‘Just when you think that nothing can surprise you any more in this life,’ he muttered, rising to his feet, ‘something comes along and knocks the wind out of you.’
The lingering flush of desire he felt was nothing more than the aftermath of a particularly powerful shot of lust. Admittedly he did not, as a rule, react so violently to anything as innocuous as a kiss. He had no idea how Audrey Hathaway, an innocent chit with no experience in the art of seduction, had scrambled his emotions so completely but he was wise enough to recognize a warning when he saw it. If Roddy really was planning on marrying the girl, he would make damn sure that he saw very little of the happy couple. Not, he reflected wryly, that he would be likely to see much of them anyway for he was not on the guest list at Birchfield Hall these days.
But having just experienced what must be regarded as a singularly dangerous encounter, he would make damn sure that he wasn’t in close proximity to the girl again. Whatever witchcraft she had wielded over him was best avoided, especially when even the memory of those soft lips beneath his own could make his heart beat all the harder and send desire coursing through his veins all over again…
