A Duke in the Night(39)

His breath brushed against the side of her neck, and she shivered. “You should be kissed, and kissed often,” he whispered. “Kissed often by a man who knows how. A man who will kiss you until you can’t breathe. Can’t think. Someone who will set your blood on fire and make you feel like the only woman in the world.”

Clara was pretty sure he had accomplished everything on that list before he had even kissed her. His hands roamed over her rear and then up her back, urging her even closer. “But tell me what you want, Clara.”

“I’d like to be kissed by a man who knows how,” she whispered back. “Until I can’t breathe. Can’t think.” Her fingers found the sides of his face, skimming over his cheeks before she let them delve into his hair the way she had longed to, tangling them in the silky thickness. She brought her mouth to his, starting the way he had. Gentle, soft brushes of her lips over his. Controlled, measured tastes. He let her, for long seconds, and only the increasing pressure of his fingers at her shoulders betrayed the steady fraying of his control.

And then his hands moved, and he caught the base of her head, curling his fingers in her hair and tipping her head back so that his mouth could slant over hers. She gasped, and he angled his head farther, his tongue now stroking deep against hers as he claimed her. This wasn’t a gentle kiss. This was hot and hard and demanding and stole every lucid thought other than her need to belong to this man. She kissed him back, all the pent-up emotion and longing she had ever suppressed channeled into a language he seemed to understand perfectly. It could have been seconds or minutes or hours that he kissed her, but it was difficult to tell, because time ceased to have meaning. Sensation coursed through her, making her ache and throb with need. She tightened her legs around his hips, and he made a tortured noise, his hands sliding from the base of her skull to skim her bodice.

He cupped her breasts through the fabric, filling his hands with them, rubbing his thumbs over her aching nipples. It was excruciating to have him touching but not touching. To not have his hands on her skin. His mouth dropped to her neck, his tongue and lips leaving trails of fire everywhere they went. Her head tipped back as she arched against him, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Clara,” he whispered against her skin.

She could hear her heart thundering in her ears, growing louder with each passing second. It vibrated through her veins, a relentless pounding that couldn’t be ignored. Her head fell to the side, her gaze unfocused, spots of color dancing before her vision.

And then she blinked, and with horror she realized that the thunder was not just that of her pulse, but also that of two dozen horses pounding their way across the grassland below them.

August suddenly yanked her hard against him, gathering her tight and dropping to his knees just behind the wall. His hands were wrapped around her back, keeping her steady. She looked up at him in the pale light, and he nodded, releasing his grip slightly so that she was able to relax her legs and slide away from him. She came to rest on her hands and knees and cautiously peered over the top of the wall, praying that they hadn’t been spotted.

The soldiers didn’t seem to have noticed them at all. Instead they had reined in their horses and had their attention fixed on the glittering sea. Clara could hear faint shouts as orders were issued, though the breeze was not strong enough to carry their words. The horses milled about restlessly for a minute before the riders split into two groups, one heading farther north, and the other angling inland, back in the general direction of the town.

“Do they ever stop?” August whispered roughly beside her. “The damn soldiers?”

She turned to him in surprise. “What do you know of them?”

“Enough.”

She frowned slightly at his incomplete answer. “It’s going to be a clear night with a full moon. Easy to see anyone out who shouldn’t be. Anyone along the beaches. Small craft out on the water. They must have received a tip.” Her heart rate was slowly returning to normal. She slid back down the stone fence and turned, leaning her back against it. “The soldiers come to Avondale from time to time. Asking if Tabby and Theo have seen any suspicious activity, given the proximity of the house to the coast. On occasion they interrogate Harland when we’re here.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a doctor who gets called out at all hours of the day and night. And there is probably little that he hasn’t seen in his travels.”

“Will the soldiers go there now?” August was frowning. “To Avondale?”

“I don’t think so.” She pushed herself to her feet. “We should go.” The men were distant smudges of color down the coast, while the soldiers who had gone inland had vanished over the rise.

“Yes.” August stood beside her but caught her arm before she could turn away. “Are you…Are we good?”

“Good?”

“I don’t want what just happened to make things awkward between us.”

“You’re having regrets already?”

His expression hardened, and he suddenly pulled her to him, kissing her long and hard, ravaging her mouth and promising far more carnal things to come.

She should pull away. She kissed him back instead.

“Does it seem as if I have any regrets?” he growled against her lips.

“No,” she replied a little unsteadily.