She’d talked to the curators often enough to know which rooms were open to the public. Over the thundering of her heart, she heard the tap of Alex’s footsteps, quick and steady. Her pulse swelled with every step closer he got. She turned down a dark hall, the crowds gone. The silence was overwhelming. Only the soft tap of her footsteps…his…the swoosh of her skirts, the pant of her breath bounced off the walls and echoing down the corridor. They could be caught. Her reputation ruined. Rodrick would never marry her…
Yet, she didn’t stop. Didn’t turn back. She knew Alex followed, could sense his presence. The wooden door was there, at the end of the hall…coming closer… closer. She reached out. Even through her glove, the porcelain knob was cold. For one brief moment she paused. Alex’s broad chest pressed to her back as he leaned forward, enveloping her in his spicy scent. She savored the feel of his warm breath whispering against her temple. He settled his hand atop hers and twisted the handle. The door swung open easily.
The room had recently been added and was in a state of dishevel with unpainted walls and dusty floors, although no workers were here now. The curtains of two large windows were thrown wide, allowing the brilliant light of day to enter. Although they faced the back of the property, anyone could walk by and see them. She didn’t pause until she made it to the middle of the large room. She was highly aware of the door closing softly behind her. Highly aware that she was alone with Alex and this time it was different. This time Lady Lavender had not given her approval. This time she had not paid for his attentions.
Alone. They were alone…again. Somehow they always managed to find each other. Alex’s footsteps were slow and unhurried as they tapped against the wooden floorboards. Grace felt his nearness like a caress, as if he touched her even now, pulling her closer…closer. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t. Yet she was and all because…blast it, he cared. But were his feelings merely a ruse?
She could stand it no longer. The desperate need to hear the truth overwhelmed her good sense. Grace spun around. “Alex, I…”
But he wasn’t looking at her. No, he was focused on something behind her. Confused, Grace turned. There was a settee and three Oriental paintings against the far wall. And there…in the middle of the white space was a narrow case holding a variety of artifacts. Alex moved slowly, as if in a trance toward that tall case. His back was taut through the fitted length of his dark brown overcoat. His hands fisted around the rim of his beaver hat.
“Alex,” she said softly, stepping closer.
He paused at that case and lifted his hand, his fingers pressed to the glass. Mesmerized, he merely stared at the case as if he hadn’t heard her, didn’t even know she was there. Bemused, Grace paused next to him. A sword, a tiara of some sort and other objects that looked decidedly Old World. Pretty things, although not necessarily worth much. The large lock on the case would deter desperate thieves.
“What is it, Alex?”
“Russian,” he whispered.
She glanced toward the case again. Royal artifacts, most likely. She stepped closer, focusing on the card in the case. “Czar Nicholas the Second,” she read.
He turned away, the spell broken. “The sword was his uncle’s, not the Czar’s.”
Startled, her gaze jumped to him. She didn’t question how Alex knew. No, she remembered him speaking Russian at the antiquities shop. “You know about antiquities then?”
He released a harsh laugh. “No. No, I don’t.”
No other explanation. He moved toward the settee and settled down, his elbows on his knees his head in his hands. He looked so destitute, so unlike himself that her heart lurched and all her harsh thoughts toward the man were momentarily forgotten. She had the insane desire to comfort him, to save him, but she didn’t know how.
Grace hesitated, then went to him, kneeling and resting her hand on his thigh. “Alex?”
He didn’t stir. She reached out and rested her hand gently against the side of his face, those dark curls at his temple clinging to her fingers. Dear, lost, Alex. She smoothed the locks back, a motherly touch, a caring touch. He was not the man who had taught her seduction. Not the man she wanted in her bed. But the man she ached for.
He lifted his head, turning his face into her touch. The bristle on his cheek rubbed erotically against her sensitive palm. “What is it?”
“You can’t possibly understand,” his lips whispered against the inside of her wrist, sending shivers over her skin.
She swallowed her retort. Perhaps she didn’t understand. Everyone had their own, unique problems in life. But she could try to understand, if only he’d let her in. If only he’d trust her enough. Whatever his demons were, they were draining him. He could no longer continue the charming pretense, the social façade of normalcy.
“I apologize,” he stood, his body trembling slightly.
She stumbled to her feet, stepping back from him. His words were curt, that wall slammed back into place around his heart. His face was hard, blank, the emotions hidden deep within. Grace felt his withdrawal as if he’d physically moved away.
He looked everywhere but at her. “We should return before we’re missed.”
He started forward. Grace reached out, boldly grasping onto his arm. “No.”
He froze, as if the touch of her hand was poison.
“Please,” she whispered.
Finally he lifted his gaze. Those beautiful eyes held hers for one long, breathless moment. There was something there in the blue depths that haunted her, that tore through her very being…a pleading look as if he was searching for answers and she was his salvation. He needed something…something…but she didn’t know what he needed, nor did she know if she was capable of saving him. Yet, she couldn’t let him go, not now, perhaps not ever.
“Alex…I…” Giving into temptation, she stepped close, pressing her body to his and wrapping her arms around his neck. She rested the side of her face against his shoulder and squeezed him tightly. She held him, not expecting anything in return, merely held him as she’d hug a family member or a friend. He was stiff for a moment, but ever so slowly his body relaxed into hers as his hands inched up her back, pulling her closer. Alex pressed his face into her hair, breathing softly.
Their hearts pounded together, slowly, steady. One.
Grace closed her eyes, her hands fisting against the lapels of his overcoat, the material warm from his body. She didn’t want to let go and had no bloody idea why. Somehow, Alex had burrowed into her heart, her soul.
She breathed deep his scent… man, leather and spice. A scent that stirred her longing like no other. She had a feeling she’d never tire of Alex. She lifted her head, pressing the side of her face to his, her breath stirring the dark strands of hair that curled close to his ear.
“I want you, Alex,” she whispered. She knew the words were bold, but they had slipped from her lips before she could stop them. Not words meant to encourage his amorous desires, but more a plea… a cry for help.
Her hands whispered up his muscled arms, over his broad shoulders, lingering at the sides of his face. She played with those strands of hair at his temples, entwining the locks around her fingers, savoring the feel of the smooth texture.
Alex’s breath grew harsh against her cheek, a warm caress that seeped through her body, down into her very being. A feeling she had never had with Rodrick. A feeling she worried she’d never have with him. But no, she wouldn’t think of Rodrick now. Her time with Alex was precious. Grace stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to the shell of his ear. She wanted to forget her problems, needed to think of nothing other than the warm, aching sensations that swirled deep within her gut whenever she thought of Alex.
He didn’t move, merely stood still, his arms wrapped stiffly around her, as if he feared any movement. Emboldened, Grace turned her head, pressing kisses along his jawline… unassuming, gentle kisses. Kisses that bespoke of affection. Of care. Of hope.
When she’d left that garden last night, she hadn’t e
xpected to see him again. She’d felt his absence like a death. Now he was here and she was alive once more. She worked her way up, pressing her mouth to the corner of his lips. Still he didn’t move, barely breathed. Did he wish her to stop? His eyes were closed, his body stiff under her touch. She could read nothing in his features. But it didn’t matter what his feelings were, the need within her was too great to resist. How she couldn’t get enough of him!
Grace tilted her head and pressed her mouth fully to his. Alex groaned. Reputation be damned! Her tongue darted out, drawing a soft line against his lips. Alex sighed, opening his mouth to her. What was it about this man that made her forget her reputation?
Alex tightened his hold, his hands cupping her bottom and drawing her closer. Even through the layers of skirts and petticoats she could feel his erection, thick and hard. His tongue stroked hers, quick passionate strokes that sent shivers down her spine. As he kissed her, the world fell away. The universe revolved around them. Nothing mattered but him.
“How I want you,” he whispered against her mouth.
One moment she was pressed to his body, the next she was in his arms, cradled against his hard chest. Grace’s skirts crinkled and bunched under his touch, trailing behind him as he swept toward the settee. Against the side of her breast, she could feel his heart slamming erratically. His gaze was hard, his jaw set stubbornly.
When he lowered her to the settee she didn’t argue, didn’t even care that they might be caught in a more than compromising situation. Alex followed her down, his hard form pressing into her body.
“You are so lovely,” he whispered, resting his face against the side of her neck, his lips finding the sensitive skin. Grace shivered.
He cupped the sides of her face. “So incredibly lovely.”
As wonderful as his words were, she noted the desperation in his voice and she had the oddest feeling that he needed her to believe him. His hands traveled down her body, his movements almost frantic, so unpracticed, so unlike him. She turned her head and pressed her lips to his temple, offering him comfort in the only way she could.
“God, Gracie, you make me feel.”
He pressed his lips to hers, a soft kiss. A gentle kiss. A kiss he’d never given her before. A kiss that seemed to reach down to her very soul. A kiss that swept through her body and made her want more. How she wished to be closer to him, wanted all of him.
Grace pressed her own lips to his, her tongue tracing his mouth. He groaned, slipped his knee between her legs and spread her thighs as much as her skirts would allow. His hard, lean body settled atop hers, molding perfectly to her form as if they were meant to be together. But no, she wouldn’t think such ridiculous, romantic thoughts. She would only think about the now, this moment, and the wonderful feelings he stirred within.
Alex pulled his lips from hers. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
She couldn’t stop thinking about him.
“I want you all the time.”
And how she wanted him!
His lips found the hollow of her throat while his fingers worked the buttons of her bodice. The world faded and they floated in oblivion, alone, untouchable. Her bodice parted, exposing the edge of her white corset. Her breasts rose sharply with every harsh intake of air.
“So beautiful.” His fingers brushed across the soft mounds, sending shivers over her skin.
He pressed his mouth there, between the valley of her breasts. Agony. Need. Hope. All rippled through her body on a heated wave. His breath was warm, his tongue rough and damp as he licked her skin. Grace groaned, sliding her fingers into his hair.
“You taste amazing,” he whispered.
His fingers went to the strings of her corset, loosening the bindings so she could finally breathe again. Grace tried to help, wiggling beneath him until the straps of her shift lowered. It was a wild, frantic struggle to be as close to him as possible.
“I can’t eat,” he said, his hands brushing hers aside so he could pull her shift lower. Her right breast came free, the nipple a hard, pink bud. His eyes darkened as he cupped the breast, his palm so warm she felt it deep within her soul. “I can’t sleep since tasting you.”
Through her muddled and hazy state, she allowed him to lift her skirts. His hands moved to her legs, sliding over her silk stockings, pulling her skirts higher…higher. She felt his warm breath on her breast right before he lowered, taking her nipple between his lips. A bolt of pleasure struck her core.
Grace arched her back. “Please, Alex.”
She was begging and should have felt the shame of heat. Instead, she felt only desire. He stroked her upper thigh, his fingers resting at her bloomers. “How I’ve wanted to have you completely.”
His hand slid into her undergarments, through the soft curls shielding her femininity. Grace sucked in a sharp breath as the aching need turned into pleasure.
“How I want you, Gracie.”
The hard length of his erection pressed to her thigh. How she wanted to touch him there! To wrap her fingers around the length of him. To show him the pleasure he showed her.
Alex’s fingers slipped between her damp folds. Fevered heat raced through her body. Grace moaned, turning her flushed face into the settee cushion. No one had ever touched her so and she knew it was wrong, knew she should stop him, but she didn’t care.
“How wet you are,” he said, then took the lobe of her ear between his teeth.
Grace bit her lip, lifting her hips, taking his fingers further inside her.
“Come for me, Gracie,” he whispered into her ear.
His finger slid into her tight sheath as his thumb found that sensitive nub hidden in her curls. Lightning branched through her body. Grace cried out. The sensations were too strong, too much even for her aching body. She should have been horrified by her wanton behavior, yet found her hips lifting, rocking against his hand.
“Grace, look at me.” He lifted himself higher, his warm breath brushing her cheek. She heard the slight plea in his voice and turned her head, meeting his gaze. The air between them mingled. His eyes were fierce and emotional and in that moment she knew he truly cared. Something deep within her shifted, time seemed to stand still and nothing existed but them.
“Alex,” she whispered, bemused by the flood of emotion that swept through her body.
Dear God, she loved him.
Alex’s finger slipped into her tight sheath. She cried out, arching her back. The ache seeped lower, spreading through her body and tightening in that tender spot between her legs. Her very soul seemed to tremble deep within. Grace shifted, feeling feverish. And Alex, lovely Alex slipped a second finger inside her.
“Please,” she whispered, her nails biting into his back through the smooth texture of his jacket.
She no longer felt alone in this world, but part of Alex and he a part of her. Unable to stand the ache any longer, Grace rocked against his hand.
“Come for me, Grace,” he said.
His words were like magic. The aching knot in her womb unwound. Grace cried out as her entire body trembled, her soul exploding into a million white stars. Heaven. For one long moment, she swore she was floating in heaven.
Vaguely she was aware of Alex pressing kisses to her lips, his mouth anchoring her in reality. A reality she no longer feared, but desired.
“You’re so sweet,” he whispered against her mouth.
Releasing a harsh, shaky breath, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him close. Her heart slammed against his, begging for reprieve, her soul begging for more. He shifted and she was acutely reminded of his steel erection pressing to her thighs. The hum of satisfaction still vibrated within her, but she wanted more. She wanted all of him.
“Alex, please.” She cuddled the bulge of his erection between her thighs. “I want all of you.”
“Grace, my love,” he sighed, resting his forehead to hers. “You don’t know how badly I want to comply, but not here, not now.”
Was he forever to say
those words? She opened her mouth to protest when the squeak of the door stunned her into silence. Frantic, Grace hid her face against Alex’s shoulder.
“Time to leave,” a deep voice demanded. There was no surprise to the tone, only insistence.
A tremble raked Alex’s frame, a shiver of regret? Need? Unfulfilled desire? She wasn’t sure. She peeked over Alex’s shoulder. A giant of a man stood in the doorway, a man she’d seen before at the brothel. One of Lady Lavender’s guards. He didn’t look shocked, he didn’t seem to care, yet there was no denying that his presence commanded obedience.
Alex pressed his hands into the settee and stood, smoothing down Grace’s skirts. She felt the loss of his warm body as if he’d ripped out her heart. She curled her fingers, resisting the urge to reach out to him. Slowly, Grace settled her feet upon the floorboards, her body spent and quivering. She felt almost faint with emotion, feelings she couldn’t identify and now wouldn’t have time to explore. She wanted to scream, to cry out in frustration. It wasn’t fair!
She surged to her feet, ignoring the guard in the doorway. “Don’t go,” she whispered.
Alex didn’t respond, but she noticed the flash of emotion that crossed his hooded eyes. Staring intently at the floor, he grasped her upper arms and pulled her closer. He didn’t kiss her, didn’t agree to stay, but merely buttoned her bodice. His touch was stiff, his mouth pressed into a firm, uncompromising line. A man she didn’t know.
“Alex,” she whispered, trapping his hands against her chest. “You don’t have to go with him. You are not a prisoner.”
His gaze met hers. There was a sadness there that made her ache for him. “Yes, I am.”
“No!” she said a little more harshly this time.
“We leave now,” the big man snapped from the doorway.
Grace threw him a glare. How she hated him! How she hated Lady Lavender!
Alex cupped the sides of her face, forcing her attention back to him. “Oh Grace, what the bloody hell am I going to do without you?”