Candace Camp - So Wild A Heart

He bent and brushed his lips against hers. “You are looking lovely tonight.”

It amazed him sometimes how well she had kept her looks. He did not know the hours and expense that were put into creams and cosmetics and hennas. Nor had he realized that in the past two or three years, he had almost never seen Leona in full daylight, their times together kept to evenings lit by softening candlelight.

He cupped his hand beneath her breast and trailed his thumb across her nipple, so that it hardened and pointed. “Did you wear this to a party?”

“Yes. Nearly caused a riot at Lady Blanchette’s soiree—or at least one would think so, from the freezing way she talked to me. But the men all seemed to enjoy it.”

“I am sure they did.” He chuckled, and his hands dropped to her waist, pulling her to him for a kiss. He winced slightly as their lips touched, and Leona drew back.

She looked up into his face, her eyes going to his lip. “What happened? Does it hurt?”

He shrugged. “Some men jumped me, but I got away. It bled a little, but it’s all right.”

Leona’s eyes darkened seductively, and she went up on tiptoe until her lips were only a breath away from his. “I never minded a little taste of blood,” she murmured, and her tongue flicked out to run across his lips.

He pulled her hard against him and buried his mouth in hers. After a long, thorough kiss, he released her. Leona leaned back, looking seductively up into his face. “Mmm. I have a surprise for you tonight,” she purred.

His loins tightened. “Do you?” Leona’s surprises were always sensual delights, worth the teasing she usually insisted upon before revealing them. “A pleasant one, I hope.”

“Most pleasant.” She smiled, walking her fingers down his chest. She hooked her hand in the waistband of his trousers, then pushed him away from her. “But first, I think, a bit of brandy would be in order.”

“Of course.” He had learned to enjoy Leona’s cat-and-mouse games, enjoying the mounting pleasure and anticipation, even the frustration, knowing that it would lead to intense pleasure. He turned away easily and poured her a glass of brandy.

She took the snifter from him and gestured to him to sit down in the chair. He did so, and she took a seat on his lap, turning sideways. She sipped at her drink, then set it aside. She began to play idly with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them slowly one by one and slipping her hands in between the edges of his shirt.

“I heard about your American heiress,” she said after a moment, tweaking one of his nipples.

“What? I don’t have an heiress, American or otherwise.”

“I heard differently. It was all the talk at Lady Blanchette’s. The daughter of a clothier, I believe.”

“He deals in furs.” Devin smiled. “Jealous, my love?”

“Me? Jealous of a fur trader’s daughter?” Leona asked scornfully. “Hardly. Interested, more like. Does she really want to marry you?”

“According to my mother, the father is panting for it. Wants to get his hands on an earl’s estate.” Devin picked up Leona’s discarded drink from the small table beside the chair and drank from it. “They are, apparently, swimming in money. They could save Darkwater.”

“Oh, Darkwater.” Leona dismissed the estate with a wave of her hand. “They could save us.”

“Save us?” Devin looked at her, a trifle taken aback by her words.

“Yes. From financial ruin.” Leona stretched, arching her back so that her breasts thrust even more boldly against the sheer material of her dress. Then she slipped her hand inside Devin’s shirt and let her hand roam freely over his chest as she talked. “Vesey says he refuses to pay any more of my gambling debts. He says Croesus himself could not keep up with my spending habits.” Her fingers settled on his nipple, caressing and squeezing it, circling it teasingly. “I reminded him that I scarcely married him for his charming manner. He was to supply the funds, and I would provide the veil for his, uh, true sexual proclivities. But he said that no amount of behavior on his part could possibly be worth the amount of money I waste.”

Leona’s full mouth settled into a luscious pout. “Do you think this dress is a waste?” She stroked her fingertips across the neckline of her dress.

“Not on you,” he replied, his eyes following the movement of her fingers. His hand slid up her body to cup her breast and caress it, his eyes glittering with desire as he watched her nipple tighten in response to his touch.

“But, then, nothing over fourteen attracts Vesey’s notice,” Leona added with a shrug. “I mean, really…I find a schoolboy exciting now and then—there is something quite stimulating about that wide-eyed eagerness. But as a steady diet?” She shook her head. “But I am straying from the subject.” She stretched up to brush her lips against his. “We were talking about your American heiress.”

“I told you, she’s not my American heiress,” Devin responded. “I have no desire to marry her.”

“Of course you don’t. Don’t be silly. Who would want to marry some boring little chit from the back of beyond? But…needs must.”

“’Needs must?’” Devin repeated in some astonishment. His hand went up to cup her chin, tilting her face so that she had to look into his eyes. “Are you saying you think I should marry this girl?”

“Of course,” Leona replied reasonably. “What else are you going to do? What else are we going to do? Much as I love the taste of you, my pet, we cannot live on it. We need money to survive. You haven’t a cent. You told me what your uncle said the last time you asked about the estate. It loses money and has for years. Your funds have long since been depleted. What are you going to do—take up clerking?”

“I know how little money I have,” Devin growled. “Everyone has been kind enough to remind me of it. Certainly marriage would solve that problem. But then I would have a wife.”

“A minor inconvenience, surely.” Leona waved her hand airily, dismissing the problem. “Many men have wives, and one would scarcely know it. Send the boring little colonial off to Darkwater and let her live there. No doubt she will be quite happy living there—she’s spent her whole life in a backwater, after all. She wants to be Lady Ravenscar, and she will have that. She will have her little ‘domain,’ and the poor naive creature will probably think she is living the life of the Ton. Heavens, Dev, I doubt she would be able to live anywhere except immured at Darkwater. She probably can’t keep up a minute’s conversation on any topic but housekeeping or some such thing, and she would be lost trying to determine what to do with an oyster fork. Can you imagine taking the chit out into Society? Let your mother take her to Darkwater and oversee her education.”

“Perhaps that is not the life she imagines,” Devin pointed out. He stood up abruptly, setting Leona aside. “What if she wants to live in London and foist herself on Society in all her rustic glory?” Devin asked. “Am I to endure my wife making a laughingstock of the Aincourt name?”

“Don’t be absurd. What will it matter what she wants? Once you are married to her, her money is yours. You are her husband, her lord and master. She will do as you say.”

“Mmm. No doubt just as you do what your lord and master says.”

“How absurd—to compare me with a fur trapper’s daughter.” Leona laughed, her rather short upper lip pulling back charmingly over white, even teeth. “Really, Dev, you make me laugh.”

“I am glad you find it so amusing,” Devin replied sourly. “I thought you, of all people, would not urge me to marry this chit. Does it bother you not at all to think of my having a wife? Of my bedding her and producing heirs?”