Not Quite A Gentleman

Seventeen

If Today’s Modern Woman should ever decide to grab hold of her destiny and tell the object of her affections “I want you” (and she is certainly encouraged to do such grabbing), she’d best be very certain because it is extremely unlikely the gentleman will turn down her invitation.

A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore

With the catlike grace that had served him well during his service to the Crown, Nathan let go of the windowsill of the unused room on the floor above Victoria’s bedchamber. He landed lightly on her balcony, then moving quickly into the shadows where the moonlight didn’t reach, peered through the French windows. And stilled at the sight he beheld.

Victoria reclined in the brass tub, her silhouette glazed by the golden glow of the crackling fire. Her dark, shiny hair was piled on her head in artful disarray, several long tendrils trailing along her neck and cheeks. Curls of steam spiraled around her, glossing her cheekbones with dewy heat.

She held a book in front of her and appeared deeply engrossed in her reading, nibbling on her bottom lip. As he watched, an intriguing smile that seemed filled with secrets tilted her lips, and he found himself hoping it was thoughts of him that inspired such a look.

She slowly closed the book, setting it on the small round table that had been placed next to the bathtub to hold a pair of thick snowy towels. Then her eyes slid closed.

With an ease born of much practice, he soundlessly opened the French windows and made his way on silent feet across the room, carrying a single, long stem red rose. When he stood next to the tub, he looked down. Her head rested on the polished brass lip, exposing her elegant, damp neck. His gaze riveted on the red mark where the knife had nicked her and his jaw tightened. Forcing his attention away from the cut, he continued his perusal. Steamy water lapped at her shoulders, forming tiny pools in the delicate indents of her collarbone. Beneath the surface that shimmered gently with her breathing, full breasts topped with rosy nipples glistened. His gaze drifted over her stomach, the triangle of dark curls at the apex of her thighs, then along the line of her shapely legs. The tub was shorter than Victoria, and to compensate, she’d rested her crossed trim ankles on the other edge, leaving her calves and feet exposed to the air. Her feet were small, her instep a high curve his fingers itched to trace.

“Are you enjoying your bath, Victoria?”

Her eyes snapped open and she gasped. Water sloshed over the side of the tub as her feet slapped below the surface and she simultaneously crossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“I came to see if you were enjoying your bath.” He held out the rose. “For you.”

Her startled gaze skipped between him and the proffered flower. Then she reached up and took the stem, bringing the bloom to her face and burying her nose in its velvety petals. Looking at him over the top of the rose, she took in his attire, then asked, “Why are you dressed all in black?”

“So as to avoid detection from anyone who might be lurking outdoors while I swung down onto your balcony.”

She looked quickly toward the French windows, then back at him. Although she still appeared stunned, there was no mistaking the flare of interest in her eyes. “You came in through the balcony? How?”

“Jumped down from the window on the floor above.”

Her eyes widened. “You did not.”

“I did.”

“Are you mad? If you’d fallen, you could have been seriously injured.”

“Dead, most likely,” he corrected with a grave nod. “How fortunate I am sure-footed.”

“Have you never heard of a door?”

“Too predictable, especially given that I wanted the element of surprise in my favor. Besides, I ran a far greater risk of discovery entering your bedchamber from the corridor. And what if the door had been locked? While I could have picked the lock, I risked discovery doing so. Nor did I have any wish to knock, for if I did, you might have been compelled to exit the tub and don a robe to open the door. Then I would have missed seeing you in the bath, and my darling Victoria, allow me to assure you, it is not a sight to be missed.”

Crimson to rival the rose he’d given her stained her cheeks. “So you jumped out of a window and landed on my balcony.”

He shrugged. “It is the way of us spies. Although I admit I’m relieved I didn’t injure any pertinent body parts. I’m a bit out of practice with the maneuver, I’m afraid.”

“And you’re here to examine my scrapes?”

“Not exactly,” he said, crossing the room. When he reached the door, he turned the key in the lock. The soft click seemed to reverberate in the air. While walking slowly back to her, he rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows, noting how carefully she watched him, the alertness and awareness simmering in her eyes. When he reached the tub, he lowered himself to his knees and rested his forearms on the edge. The tips of his fingers gently stirred the water.

“I would of course be delighted to check on your injuries,” he said, his gaze riveted on hers, “but in the interest of fair play, I must warn you, I am here not as a doctor but as a man. A man intent upon…” His voice trailed off and he reached out to slowly drag a single fingertip along the delicate line of her collarbone.

She looked at him with wide, luminous eyes. “Upon what?” she asked in a breathless voice. “Seduction?”

“Seduction,” he repeated slowly, savoring the word like a fine, rich claret. “Now that is a tantalizing, arousing idea. And one I will certainly ponder. Next time.”

Confusion flickered in her eyes. “Next time?”

“Yes.” He arranged his features into a mask of regret. “As delightful as seduction would be, I’m afraid this visit is for revenge.”

Without giving her a chance to reply, he stood and smoothly whisked her towels from the small table. Then he moved to the far end of the fireplace, well out of reach, and casually rested his shoulders against the white marble mantel.

Her gaze shifted from the empty table to the towels he held, then swept the room. Her night rail and a robe lay across the foot of the bed. The nearest thing to cover herself with were the towels he held. She looked at him and pursed her lips.

“I understand,” she said, nodding. “This is your revenge for what happened at the lake. I saw you naked and wet, so now you shall see me naked and wet.”

“ ‘Tis only fair. And I did warn you I would seek retribution. But you seeing me naked and wet isn’t all that happened at the lake.” A slow smile curved his lips. “And I fully intend to retaliate.”

He was deeply gratified by the unmistakable flare of interest in her gaze. Without breaking their eye contact, she leaned forward, laid her folded arms along the edge of the tub and rested her chin on her stacked hands.

“What if I don’t get out of the tub?”

“You’ll eventually have to.” He smiled and crossed his ankles. “I’m prepared to wait as long as it takes.”

“Hmmm. And if I refuse?”

“Then I suppose I shall be forced to climb into the tub with you.”

“Would you really do that?”

“Is that an invitation?”

Her lips twitched. “No. It’s a question. I’m weighing my options and need an answer.”

“In that case, my answer is yes, I would. In a heartbeat.”

“I see. Well, I shall need a moment to reflect upon this and plan. To decide what to do.”

“Take your time,” Nathan said with a magnanimous sweep of his hand. He bent down to set the towels on the edge of the hearth rug and realized he’d scooped up her book along with the towels. Plucking it from the top of the pile, he read the title and raised his brows.

“Ah, the infamous Ladies’ Guide,” he said, straightening. He opened to a random page and read:

“ ‘There are countless ways Today’s Modern Woman can seduce the gentleman she desires. She is hindered only by her imagination. Suggest a moonlit stroll with the intention of veering off onto a private path for an outdoor tryst. He won’t be able to resist a note, unsigned but scented with your fragrance, upon which you’ve written only a time and place.’ ”

Looking up, he nodded approvingly. “Yes, either of those would work very nicely for me. Shall I continue?”

“If you like. I believe the next suggestion involves the lady discreetly stroking her gentleman through his breeches.”

Nathan glanced down and silently read the next two lines. “It does indeed.” He couldn’t decide if he was more intrigued or disquieted by her choice of reading material. He found the thought of her using any knowledge gained from the book on him highly arousing. The thought of her using it on anyone else shot white-hot jealousy through him. He closed the book and set it on the mantel, noting she regarded him with an unreadable expression.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“I’m wondering how it is that you manage to set me on fire even while you stand two dozen feet away and I’m submerged in water.”

Before he could decide which surprised him more-her reply or the smoky voice in which she delivered it-she cut off any hope of him speaking by slowly rising. Water sluiced down her body, a shimmering waterfall cast in gold by the firelight. His gaze meandered down the length of her and desire hit him low and hard.

He had to swallow twice to find his voice. “I’m not certain if ‘rise from a steaming pool like an enchanting water nymph’ was listed in your Ladies’ Guide as a seduction method, but if so, I commend you, as you’ve quite got the hang of it.”

“It’s not listed, but I’ll make a note in the margin.” She gracefully stepped from the tub then walked slowly toward him, her hips gently swaying, bewitching him with each step, with the half bold, half shy look gleaming in her eyes. She halted when only an arm’s length separated them. Everything in him craved to yank her against him, crush her to him with all the randy fervor of a green lad. He pulled in a slow, deep breath to calm his hammering heart, but that only served to fill his head with the delicate scent of roses.

“I thought you said it was into the bed for me,” she whispered. “That I needed to rest.”

“It is into the bed for you. But not quite yet.” His gaze moved over her with a hunger he fiercely fought to tamp down. Their eyes met, and his heart tripped at the arousal he read there. A touch of shyness, yes, but his Victoria was no coward.

His Victoria…

Dangerous, unsettling words. For she wasn’t his. Would never be his for more than a few stolen moments. But for these stolen moments she was, so he’d worry about that later. “The proverb claims that ‘Revenge is sweet,’” he said in a rough whisper. “Let’s see if it really is.”

Clasping her hand, he led her toward the far corner of the room, stopping in front of the oval, full-length cheval glass. Standing between her and the mirror, he brushed his fingers over her smooth, flushed cheek. “I want to touch you, Victoria.” Even as he said the words, it struck him that this wild, urgent turbulence roaring through him was more than simply a “want” to touch her. It was a need. Beyond anything he’d ever before experienced.

He stepped around her to stand directly behind her. “I want you to see me touch you.” So you can see how much I want you. So I can see you wanting me.

Victoria stood perfectly still, scarcely daring to breathe as she took in the sight of herself, naked, and Nathan standing behind her. The vision simultaneously shocked and aroused her. She made an unconscious move to cover herself, but he caught her hands from behind and shook his head. “No,” he whispered against her temple. “Don’t hide from me. Or yourself.”

A full-body blush engulfed her and she locked her knees to keep her balance. She’d stood naked before her bedchamber mirror on numerous occasions, studying her form, running her hands experimentally over her body, her curiosity burning. What would it feel like to be touched by a man? And not just any man. This man. Who had captivated her imagination from the first time she’d set eyes on him three years ago. Her heart jumped with anticipation of finally discovering the answer.

He reached up and gently pulled the pins from her hair, letting them fall to the carpet. Her haphazard pile of curls unfurled, falling over his hands and her shoulders, rippling down her back to her waist. Lightly clasping her upper arms, he leaned forward and buried his face against her hair. “Roses,” he whispered. Somehow she found her voice. “It’s my favorite scent.” His gaze met hers in the mirror. “It’s now mine, as well.” The warmth of his hands on her skin, the heat emanating from his body, enveloped her like a velvet cloak. Heart pounding, breaths coming in choppy pants, she struggled to maintain some semblance of outward calm, but her efforts proved futile. Dear God, the way he was looking at her… no man had ever looked at her like this before. She supposed because she spent all her time in polite society, and there was nothing polite about the intensely carnal desire glittering in Nathan’s eyes.

Dressed all in black, his face cast in starkly contrasting panes of shadow and light from the fire, he looked like the swashbuckling pirate she’d once imagined him-devastatingly attractive, wholly masculine, and just a bit dangerous. God help her, she couldn’t wait to see, to feel, what he planned next.

He brushed her hair aside with one hand, exposing the back of her neck, while his other hand stole around her waist and pressed her gently back, erasing whatever space had remained between them. His body touched hers, from shoulder to knee, the hard ridge of his erection nudging against her buttocks. Heat emanated from him, infusing her with a flood of warmth. Bending his head, he kissed the back of her neck.

She watched, transfixed, as his fingertips settled on her neck then slowly dragged downward, dipping into the shallow hollow at the base of her throat, which quivered in betrayal of her rapid pulse. He’d barely begun and already she was lost.

Settling his palms on her shoulders, he skimmed his hands down to hers and entwined their fingers. Then he lifted her hands up and back, around his neck. “Hold on,” he said, his voice rough velvet. She did as he bid, clasping her fingers together at his nape, grateful for something to hold on to.

He settled his warm lips against her temple, then slowly trailed his fingers down her upraised arms. A thousand pleasurable tingles shot over her skin, and she leaned her head back against his shoulder, watching his clever, long-fingered hands, so dark against her much paler skin, embark upon an agonizingly slow exploration, as if he meant to memorize every pore, every freckle, building an unbearable need in her.

He splayed one hand on her chest and whispered against her temple, “Your heart is pounding.”

The same words she’d said to him, she realized. “Surely that doesn’t surprise you,” she said, mimicking the response he’d given her.

She felt his smile, but her attention was riveted to the sight, the feel, of his hands, slipping lower, lightly brushing over her breasts. Her breath caught and her eyes slid closed.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he said, his warm breath brushing by her ear. “Watch how beautiful you are.” She watched his large hands cup her breasts, teasing her nipples into aching points, rolling the aroused peaks slowly between his fingers. A long purr of pleasure vibrated in her throat. Unclasping her hands, she combed her fingers through the thick dark silk of his hair and arched her back, offering more of herself, an invitation he immediately took advantage of.

His lips wandered down her neck, alternating between lazy kisses and velvety strokes of his tongue. Indeed, all of his caresses were languid, indolent, a shocking contrast to the sharp-edged need spearing through her.

“Nathan…” She breathed out his name in a long sigh and squirmed against him, impatient, wanting. He sucked in a sharp breath and pressed himself closer against her back, nestling the hard length of his erection more firmly between her buttocks.

“Patience, love,” he rasped against her ear.

While one hand continued to caress her breasts, his other hand continued its breathtaking descent, over her stomach, learning the curve of her waist, circling, then dipping into the sensitive hollow of her navel. Then lower, his fingertips grazing the triangle of dark curls at the apex of her thighs.

“Spread your legs for me, Victoria.”

She obeyed, then watched, breathless and entranced as his fingers dipped lower and caressed her feminine folds. That first touch stunned her, then it was as if the floodgates of sensation opened, saturating her in awareness of her own body, her muscles straining closer to him, her hips undulating against his hand. His fingers slid over an exquisitely sensitive spot, pulling a deep moan from her throat. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror who stared out of eyelids drooped heavy with arousal, her pale skin entwined by strong, sinewy, golden brown forearms and relentless, magical fingers. The woman looked wanton and carnal. Voluptuous. Wicked.

His fingers dipped lower, caressing her with a slow circular motion that threatened to drive her mad. “I told you,” he said in a husky rasp against her neck, “that me kneeling before you was a sight you would never see. Do you remember?”

Dear God, surely he didn’t expect her to be able to answer questions? “Yes,” she managed, the word ending on a breathless sigh of pleasure.

“You said, ‘Never say never,’ and you were right.” He slid his hands from her body and a groan of protest rose in her throat. But the groan turned into a moan when he moved in front of her. Their lips met in a lush open-mouthed kiss, tongues mating, while his hands skimmed down her back, then forward to cup her breasts. Breaking off their kiss, his lips blazed a hot trail down her neck, then lower, to her breasts. He drew her nipple into the silky heat of his mouth, a delicious tug that elicited an answering pull deep in her womb. Immersed in sensation, she gripped his shoulders, searching for an anchor, then let her head drop limply back.

After lavishing the same attention to her other breast, he slowly sank to his knees, his tongue tracing a line down the center of her torso then dipping into her navel. He kissed his way across her belly, and she heard him pull in a deep breath, then softly say, “Roses.”

His hands circled around her ankles, then slowly moved up her legs, caressing her thighs, then cupping her buttocks, lightly kneading her flesh. He feathered kisses along her abdomen, then lower, until his lips, his tongue, caressed her as his fingers had. Her grip on his shoulders tightened in direct proportion to her knees weakening. A gasp escaped her at the stab of shocking pleasure. He insinuated his shoulder between her thighs, spreading them wider. Her legs trembled, but his strong hands on her bottom supported her, urging her hips to move against him. The pleasure built to an unbearable pitch then exploded, dragging a cry from her throat as tremors pulsed through her. As the shudders waned, they stole her strength, leaving her sated, satisfied, and utterly limp.

Without a word he rose and scooped her up in his arms. He carried her to the bed, depositing her on the turned-back bedding with a gentle bounce. She looked up at him, expecting mischief in his gaze, but he regarded her through very serious eyes. After pulling up the sheet to cover her, he hitched his hip on the mattress and tucked a curl behind her ear with fingers she noticed weren’t quite steady.

“Revenge is indeed sweet,” he murmured.

Her heart skipped. Something in his tone, in the way he’d covered her, made it seem as if he intended for their interlude to now end. Summoning her courage, she said, “But surely you’re not done.”

Something flashed in his eyes. “You wish to continue?”

“Don’t you?”

“You’re answering a question with a question. Have you thought on the matter?”

“Extensively. And not while I was, as you put it, sexually aroused or basking in the afterglow of pleasure.”

“You’ve considered all the ramifications?”

“Yes. Under normal circumstances I would perhaps not enter into an affair, however, there are extenuating factors here.”

“Such as?”

“Our location. It would be difficult to maintain discretion in London, but no one knows me here. I’ve no intention of ever returning here, and it’s not as if any of my Society acquaintances are in the area.”

“If we were discovered, there isn’t any distance great enough to protect you from the scandal. Then there is also the matter of pregnancy.”

“There are ways to prevent such an occurrence,” she said. “Surely as a doctor you know that.”

“Of course I do.” His eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t aware you did.”

“I’ve gleaned an enormous amount of knowledge from my reading of the Ladies’ Guide.”

“Ah, yes, the Ladies’ Guide. Clearly it is a cornucopia of information. I must admit I found the snippet I read quite titillating.”

“It isn’t merely titillating,” she said, driven to defend the book that had come to mean so much to her. “It provides information to women that we would otherwise most likely not be privy to.”

“Such as how to touch a man? Seduce a man?”

She raised her chin. “Among other things, yes.”

“Hmmm. In that case, I believe I owe the author a note of thanks. However, there are other things to consider as well. Even if an affair wasn’t discovered here, now, the fact that you’d engaged in one will be revealed on your wedding night, lending the evening a dubious outcome. I suspect that neither Branripple nor Dravensby would be pleased to learn their bride had had a lover.”

“The Ladies’ Guide suggests several ways to handle such a situation-a situation which the author firmly asserts is none of the gentleman’s business, by the way. Certainly men are not expected to come to the marriage bed virgins.”

“Perhaps not. But I am all curiosity. How does the author suggest you handle the situation?”

“My personal choice is enthusiasm. The Guide states that if a bride is an active, willing participant in the wedding night lovemaking rather than simply an inert mass, her groom will be so enthralled he won’t have the presence of mind to question the, er, details.”

His expression was unreadable, but a muscle ticked in his jaw. “I see,” he said in a neutral tone.

“I cannot see why the outcome of my wedding night would concern you.”

Something flashed in his eyes, but was gone before she could decipher it. “I’m concerned because I wouldn’t want you to be hurt. In any way.”

A frown formed between her brows. “Thank you. I appreciate your concern. But…”

“But what?”

She huffed out a breath. “Well, for a man who claims he desires me, you are frustratingly reluctant to become my lover. And unfortunately, in my numerous readings of the Ladies’ Guide, I do not recall any mention of how to deal with an unwilling gentleman.”

“Unwilling?” His eyes darkened and he stood. Pinning her with his gaze, he slowly unfastened his shirt. “My darling Victoria, I am most assuredly not unwilling. I simply wanted to make certain that you knew full well what you’re getting into.”

He shrugged out of his shirt and dropped it carelessly on the floor. Her gaze tracked over his chest, resting on the silky whorls of dark hair that narrowed to an ebony ribbon, bisecting his flat, ridged belly. His arousal was clearly outlined beneath his snug breeches. Oh, my. There was nothing about him that looked unwilling.

“And what would I be getting into?” she asked, her pulse leaping.

“A lover who won’t be satisfied to simply have you once. I’ll expect our liaison to continue for the duration of your stay in Cornwall.”

“I see.” She sat up, pushing the sheet off her, then rolled onto her knees. Reaching out, she trailed a single fingertip down that fascinating ribbon of hair. “Then, in the interest of fair play, I’d best warn you that you, too, will be taking on a lover who won’t be satisfied to simply have you once. I also shall expect our liaison to continue for the duration of my stay in Cornwall.”

She trailed her finger around the skin just above the waistband of his breeches. His muscles jumped beneath her light touch. “A hardship I shall endeavor to bear with a smile.”

“Of course, if you don’t think you have the stamina…”

One dark brow climbed up. “You doubt my vigor?”

“If I say yes, will you prove me wrong?”

“I’m afraid it would indeed compel me to rise to the challenge.”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.