Dare to be a Duchess, page 11
He leaned forward to breathe in its scent, and Lara shivered. He smiled, and his nose lingered in her hair, reveling in the whiff of roses and vanilla, which was so uniquely her.
“I was right. You do smell delicious,” Wolf murmured, refastening the hood on her head, hiding her distinctly dark hair again.
Lara fell into step with him, and walking hand in hand, they stopped in front of a large circle where a fiddler was playing a fast tune. Pushing through the crowd, Wolf brought her right into the front where a scantily dressed couple holding fire sconces danced to the music, moving back and forth, swaying to the beats.
“How fabulous,” Lara effused, moving to stand in front of Wolf. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
It took him less than a moment to understand that this was no ordinary performance. It was exotic and erotic, one meant to entice the audience. Lara’s audible gasp told him that she had realized this, too. But she stayed put in front of him, enraptured by the performance.
They watched the couple close in on one other again and again, their bodies moving back and forth, their skin gliding across one another, all the while their hands moving with the fire sconces. It was a dance meant to excite and ignite emotions, and it did. Lara took a step back, and her back brushed into Wolf’s body. Both his arms came around her waist, pulling her against his chest, trapping her to him. A shudder went through her. He felt it to his bones.
Pleasure buzzed in his veins to have her just where he wanted her, where he’d been dreaming of having her for so many nights now—in his arms. Her body fit his tall frame like she was born to do so.
He rested his chin on her head, his arms wrapped around her lithe form as they watched the dancers. The fiddler reached a crescendo in the music, and the dancers leaped and swirled faster and faster, their bodies mimicking the ancient act of love, the fire in their hands trailing a blazing path through the air with their speed and movements. Lust poured through his veins, the ache to keep holding Lara growing with every beat of the music. He drew her close, holding her tight as the music slowed to a halt and the dancers bowed to a thunderous applause.
The crowd around them dissipated, but Wolf kept his hold on her. Lara turned in his arms, and Wolf let out a sharp exhale as her breasts met his hard chest.
Unable to help himself, Wolf brushed a kiss on her cheek and whispered in her ear, “Dance with me, Lara.”
Her mouth parted at his words. Wolf never danced. Ever. He was known in the ton to rarely attend an event, and when he did, he never danced. Yet he was asking her to dance with him? The need to be in his arms beat like a tempo through her blood.
She nodded her assent. Immediately, he drew her forward, leading her through the throng back toward the center of the gardens where the orchestra played a waltz. He positioned her amidst the dancing couples and swept her in his arms, moving them to the music.
The velvet of her cloak constantly slipped against the silk of her gown. Wolf shifted his hand under her cloak, his hand drifting to her waist, and pulled her closer to him, flush against his body. She sighed. Contentment and a sense of utter completion flooded through her.
Lara raised her eyes to meet his. That smoldering gaze of his arrested her, and it felt like everything in her world had aligned. For the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged…here with him, in his arms.
Time stopped, the surroundings all but vanishing as Lara danced with Wolf, this powerful man who never danced ever, but who could dance like a dream, and she floated in his arms on a perfect cloud.
What was happening to her? Each and every one of her nerve endings had come alive, all her senses sharply focused on the man in front of her, holding her close to him like he didn’t want to let go. Tingles of anticipation ran down her spine, and her body hummed. His hardness throbbed against her stomach. They were standing on the precipice of desire, and suddenly, she didn’t care anymore where she fell. All reason vanished from her mind.
One dance melded into another, but that liquid silver gaze never left her face, not once.
The music came to a stop, and Wolf twirled her around, dipping her low in his arms. She laughed, giddy with so much happiness. Wolf straightened her, leaning forward to capture that strand of her hair that fell on the side of her face. He twirled it in his finger, tugging it and her toward him.
Her hands moved to the back of his neck, and they stood still staring at one another, frozen in time. A boom thundered in the sky, and they both looked up as a lone rocket burst forth into a thousand sparks, lighting up the darkness. More and more rockets followed, painting the sky in a multitude of colors, and while Wolf watched the sky, Lara watched him, his face animated with the display, his eyes sparkling with joy.
Her heart fluttered. Something was happening to her. She was being swamped by these strange emotions that squeezed her chest each time she was with him, and every time she looked at him, something tugged on her heartstrings. Wolf met her gaze again, and the air around them thickened. Tension radiated off him in waves, desire etched all over his face. Wordlessly, he drew her away from the gardens and toward his carriage.
Wolf settled her in the carriage by his side. The moment he sat beside her, the carriage took off.
Lara looked up at him, and their eyes locked. Suddenly, all the air fled from her lungs.
“Wolf…”
“Lara…” he started at the same time.
A nervous chuckle escaped her lips.
“You first,” Wolf said, his eyes arrested on her face.
She gulped. “Uh, thank you for a perfect evening. I had a great time.”
He nodded. Try as she might, she couldn’t look away from his scorching gaze. The urge to touch him became a potent need—one she could not deny.
She reached for him the same time he twisted to gather her in his arms.
Wolf planted his mouth on hers and plundered her lips. And when his tongue swept inside her mouth, taking control, tasting her, enjoying her, Lara gave in to him. Completely.
She couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted more. Her hands clutched his shoulders, holding him close, her breasts flattened against his chest as he hauled her to him, raising her to sit across his lap. His tongue danced with hers, setting her senses ablaze. Wolf untied the knot at her throat and let the cloak fall behind them while Lara removed the mask and tossed it aside. His mouth on hers, his hands roamed at their pleasure, capturing her breasts and caressing each mound through her gown.
She moaned through the kiss, needing more, pressing herself into his hands. Seeming to understand her need, Wolf untied the laces at her back and lowered her gown and chemise until her breasts spilled into his palms.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathed.
Her skin shone pearlescent under the passing lights, and her dark nipples puckered in the cold air. His mouth latched onto an aching peak, and Lara shut her eyes as her body and mind were swamped with never before known delight.
Small sounds passed her lips as Wolf paid homage to each of her breasts in turn. Her core melted, needing something she couldn’t as yet understand. Lara wriggled on his lap, pushing and pulling her gown until she straddled him, and her hot core pressed against his raging erection through his breeches.
“Wolf, it hurts. All of me hurts…” Lara whimpered as an ache spread from her core to every part of her.
“I know, sweetheart.” He kissed her parted lips. “I feel the same.”
Wolf pressed his manhood against her, and his mind blanked as the need for satisfaction roared in his blood. Her soft body moved against his hard one, the friction making him insane with need.
Did she know what she was doing to him? He burned. Every inch of him was on fire. Wolf raised his head and ran his eyes down her form. With her nipples plum-colored from his kisses, her lips parted, hair in slight disarray, her body undulating on his, she looked like a pagan goddess.
Cursing, Wolf caught a breast in his mouth. He bit one nipple the same time his hand pinched her other one while he thrust against her core. Lara cried out, rubbing herself harder on him. Wolf watched the changing expressions on her face as he gave her the rapture he knew she needed. He kept his hold on her, his hardness pressing into her until her head dropped to his shoulder. He held her close for several seconds, wrapping his arms around her until her breathing steadied.
A horse reared in the background, and the carriage came to a sudden halt. With a gasp, Lara shifted off his lap, her leg brushing against his hard manhood, and Wolf sucked in a harsh breath.
That had been one of the most pleasurable moments of his life, yet all he could think was what a monumental mistake he’d just made. And wanted to make again immediately.
He quickly tied her laces and set her clothes right. “You need to go.” He had already crossed far too many lines with her tonight. He needed to get his head straight so that he didn’t take things further, and that wouldn’t happen if that aqua gaze of hers continued to stare at him longingly.
He lifted her mask from the floor and handed it to her. “Please, Lara.”
She swallowed. His eyes followed the movement of her throat, skimming lower to where her chest rose and fell with every shuddering breath that escaped her mouth.
She grabbed her cloak and tied it around herself then opened the door to the carriage.
Wolf caught her arm. “Promise me you won’t venture anywhere dangerous again.”
“I won’t, I promise.” With that, Lara hurried out of the coach.
Wolf waited until she was safely inside the house before heading home himself.
Chapter Fourteen
The next day passed in a blur. Lara woke up late but with a smile that never left her face. Her mind kept replaying the night before, her body alternating between hot and cold, her mind oscillating from happy to confused to fearful and back to happy until the emotions were all rioting inside her head. She remained distracted the whole day. Even when Anne and Camille came to visit, she hardly paid them any attention. She barely heard Camille’s apology of not being able to visit Mrs. Shelby’s. Lara didn’t tell her or Anne that she had visited the pleasure gardens with Wolf, and she definitely didn’t tell them about the pleasure she experienced in his arms.
Her friends excitedly droned on about the preparations of Anne’s engagement ball that was scheduled in four days, but Lara hardly paid any heed to them or the conversation that ensued. She just smiled when needed and nodded her assent when required. Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief when they took their leave from her.
Alone once again with her thoughts, Lara’s mind spiraled back to Wolf. What would happen next? Would he want to meet her again alone? Did she want to meet him again alone? She shouldn’t. This…whatever it was could never happen and would only end in pain. Her heart was a jumbled mess, and she didn’t know what to think or how to react anymore.
Feigning another headache, she refused to attend the Castlereagh ball that night. She had barely entered her chamber post dinner when Mary handed her another vellum envelope stamped with the Wolverton seal. Lara tore through it to read the note inside.
Meet me at the turn to the Serpentine tomorrow morning at sharp 6.
- W
Her heart thumped a rapid staccato against her chest, and a happy smile spilled from her lips. She was delighted with the prospect of meeting him again.
And then it hit her how unwise she was behaving. It was nothing but foolishness to actually consider meeting him at the park in the morning. It was wrong to continue down this forbidden path. And yet she knew she would go. It’s just curiosity, she told her treacherous self. Nothing more. She just wanted to find out why he had called her, and that’s why she ought to go.
She fell asleep with that thought in her mind.
…
Wolf had hoped, in spite of his request, that she would not turn up. That she be the wiser one between the two of them and stay away, but alas she hadn’t, and his heart raced as she closed the distance between them.
He knew better than to encourage this forbidden attraction between them. He had tried his hardest to not succumb to it, but after spending the whole day dreaming about her, remembering the smell of her skin, the sight of her rapture, and her soft moans as she reached her completion, he had finally given in and sent her that note. He didn’t know how to stop what was evolving between them.
And so here he was, despite his better judgment, waiting for this trouble-causing minx to reach him.
Lara slowed her horse to a canter and came to a stop in front of him. He watched her as she leaned forward and rubbed the muzzle of his white Arabian. Her windblown hair, barely held together by a small string, fell like a curtain on one shoulder.
“Good morning,” she said, still stroking the mare. She looked up at him, and he gave her a brief nod.
He turned his horse, and they trotted together at a slow pace. The morning wind was crisp against his skin, and Wolf breathed deep, inhaling the pure air. Beside him, Lara let out a blissful sigh.
Wolf urged his horse to a faster gallop, and Lara followed suit. Her face lifted to the wind, and her hair flew behind her. The laugh that erupted from her was free and wild and knocked something inside his chest. He let her take the lead, admiring how she expertly rode her horse, before he pushed forward and joined her.
Together they thundered down the open ground, working their horses to a fine sweat, until finally Wolf slowed his horse down to a canter. Lara came up beside him, smiling.
“That was refreshing,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face.
She was wearing blue again, a dark, midnight blue riding habit that fitted her curves to perfection. He ran his eyes hungrily down her, and when his eyes met hers, he found her staring at him, too.
Lara blinked, looking away from him, and tugged on her reins. She brought her horse to a stop and, in one lithe move, jumped off.
“So, I wanted to talk to you about something. That night at Mrs. Shelby’s just before Paxton interrupted us?” she said. “I saw Lord Merridale with a woman who was definitely not his wife. Do you know that Lady Merridale is enceinte again? That’s why she fainted at the Ravensborough’s. I can’t believe he’d be so shameless as to flaunt his paramour when his wife is expecting.”
Halting his horse, too, Wolf jumped off him and took the reins of Lara’s horse.
“Such are the ways of the ton,” he said, tying the horses to a tree branch.
She put her hands on her hips. “And you see no trouble with it?”
“Of course I do, but there is no changing these people. You ought to be familiar with that by now.”
She was silent for a long moment, and when he turned back to her, Lara’s gaze pierced him with its disappointment.
“You’re right,” she said. “I am. And this is why I will never marry from within the ton,” she said. “The men have no morals and no loyalty to their spouses, and the ladies are worse. They’re always belittling those lesser than them. They are all a bunch of horrible, narcissistic fools,” she finished bitterly.
When she turned away, Wolf cupped her elbow, stopping her. “What brought this on?”
She swiped at her eyes with her glove. “Nothing. It’s true what I said, that’s all.”
Wolf narrowed his eyes. “Tell me. I know there’s more to your emotions.” He put a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. “Lara, please. Talk to me. I promise not to judge and to listen.”
Sighing, Lara said, “When I came from India and joined the finishing school for girls, other than Anne and Camille, no one wanted to befriend me. Girls can be cruel, and they were. My skin was not pale, my accent different, and my mannerisms not what they were used to. I tried for years to fit in. I learned how to walk, how to talk, to ride sidesaddle, to curtsey correctly, and I could recite Debrett’s list of Peerage like a litany.”
Lara smiled, looking at her gloved fingers. “But you see, it wasn’t enough. The whispers around me continued, the snide comments worsened as I grew older, until one day, I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I will never fit in with you lot. I am different, and I have to accept that. If a lady of the ton like Lady Merridale is disrespected in such a crude manner by her husband, imagine how it is for me. How it would be if I marry one of those men.”
Wolf frowned, thinking. “I have never heard a single snide comment about you, not even once.” And he’d be damned if anyone disrespected Lara in any way.
Lara snorted. “As if anyone would ever speak ill about me in front of you. It’s when I am alone that I see the disapproval stamped on the faces of the grandes dames, that I hear their whispers. Oh, she’s still here. How dare she use the Wolvertons to remain amongst us? Why does she not return back to India where she belongs? She’s so poor, she’s from a land of savages, she’s unacceptable, etc., etc. The women are bad, the men worse in their ribald hints and innuendoes. It’s disgusting, and I hate it. That’s why I stepped out of the ballrooms to look for someone normal, someone not from the ton, someone who might accept me for who I am. I just want you to understand why I’ve looked beyond the usual circles.”
Wolf clasped her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware. Why didn’t you bring this up to me earlier? I would have—”
Lara shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do, absolutely nothing to change the situation, Wolf. It is as it is.”
She was right. He couldn’t protect her from the whispers of people. She had indeed faced a lot of trauma from the ton, and for the first time he understood her rebellious nature, from where it stemmed.
“Tell me about your life in India, your parents,” Wolf prodded, playing with her hand, unable to relinquish his hold on her.
