“And have you managed to lose yourself?”
His mouth smiled but his eyes still looked like they were in pain. “Even better, Arabella, I have found you.”
“What have been your difficulties, Giles? Can I help you?”
“Arabella, you can only help me by giving me your company, your smile. I would never weigh you down with my burdens. You,” he reached up and ran a knuckle across her cheek, “are so beautiful and that beauty is a balm to my soul.”
Surely, he would kiss her now. But he did not.
“But tell me of the amusements you pursue in London, Arabella. Which are your favorites?”
And so the minutes flew by as Arabella spoke of museums and balls and Bond Street and then she found that the hour was so late that she had to leave immediately so as not to raise suspicion. And except for that stroke of her cheek and handing her down to and up from the picnic blanket, he did not touch her.
He bowed to her as she was about to leave the grove of trees and walk quickly back to Mayfair.
“Tonight,” he said. “Tonight, meet me outside your stepfather’s house at half past ten o’clock.”
Four
She went out the servants’ entrance, the door locking behind her, and crept through the rear garden and out the gate and into the back lane. Then she walked down the lane and around to the front of the house on the square and waited.
She had put on her favorite dress, a delicate white silk gown with very puffed bishop’s sleeves and a scooping neckline that showed off the top of her breasts to great advantage. With this dress on, there would be no question. Tonight, he would kiss her again as he had before.
A carriage came down the street with a coat of arms on the door. She was not surprised. She had known that he must be a lord of some kind with his dominating demeanor, his immediate possession of her hand, her lips, her mouth. And then Giles, her Giles, flung open the door and helped her into the carriage, and onto the seat across from him.
The carriage rolled away.
“You look cold, little one,” Giles said.
“I am.” Arabella shivered. The dress she had chosen to tempt Giles to kiss her was very pretty, but it was a summer dress, the silk was thin, and the sleeves were only to her elbow.
“I go away tomorrow, Arabella.”
Her heart sank, deep into the pit of her stomach.
“Oh, no,” she said and tried to control the tremble in her voice. “Must you leave London so soon? I had hoped ... that we might picnic again. I would bring a hamper with sandwiches.”
“My duties call me home. It cannot be avoided,” he said and sighed.
Arabella looked into Giles’ dark eyes. She saw so much emotion there—passion, sadness, tenderness. And then he reached across the carriage and put his hand on her leg and kneaded her thigh through her delicate gown.
She could feel her own breath grow ragged and her heart race.
“Arabella,” he whispered. And then he was on the seat next to her. His large, powerful arms pulled her to him and his head was bent to hers and his mouth was on hers. He ravished her mouth with his, tearing at her lips with his teeth. As he kissed her and filled her mouth with his tongue, she felt her nipples stiffen and she pressed her breasts against his hard chest.
As if he knew what she wanted, he first caressed and then clutched at one of her breasts. He kept his other hand on the back of her head, holding her golden locks, pushing her head into every one of his savage kisses.
He was groaning now into her mouth and that sound lit a fire deep in her belly. His hand on her breast pulled on her dress and she could hear a rip and feel him pushing her stays down and tearing at her chemise. Then his hand was engulfing her bare breast and he was pinching her nipple and the most exquisite agony of pleasure was running through her body.
He took his mouth from hers to lower his head to her now-naked breast to suckle at it. His hand on her hair pulled her up so she was now on her knees on the carriage seat. His mouth stayed on her nipple but the hand that had been on her breast came down to her front to cup her mound, that place between her legs that had grown damp when he had first kissed her, that place that ached for him.
Her whole body was aroused and all she wanted was for him to continue to touch her, to kiss her, to lay her whole body bare.
And now she was the one groaning.
He took his hand from behind her head and grabbed her fingers and put them on the bulge at his groin. His large hand over her small one, moving her palm up and down as the bulge grew and lengthened. When he took his own hand away, she continued to rub the bulge, the phallus.
He raised his head from her breast, panting. “You are a temptress. Yes. A beautiful, bewitching temptress. Your body. This rosebud of a breast...” He lowered his head again and worried her nipple with his lips, his tongue, his teeth, and rubbed at the top of her mound with his thumb.
