My Divinely Decadent Duke Read online

  He made her smolder. It was no wonder she didn’t incinerate then and there in front of him.

  Chapter Five

  Althorn liked how her complexion was as pink as those blushing tea roses kissed by a warm sun. While he was used to rouged and made-up women, her skin held a natural look about her—pure as innocence. The rosewater scent of her was fragrant, and he was sure if he touched her, she’d be as soft as morning dew and just as fragile—and elusive.

  The duke busied himself assessing her lips; inviting and full, they begged for his to mate with hers. He could show her what pleasures awaited such a kiss by an experienced man, not the sop she almost married. It still irked him the brute treated her shabbily.

  There was something about her he found unique, but just as quickly, he sensed she withdrew from him mentally. If he were indeed the greatest rogue in all of England, he would whisk her away to some corner of the garden and sample her luscious lips. For all her bravado, he knew full well she was inexperienced and flirted more with danger than with him. Definitely not the sort of woman who took risks, but she was more the type who would run away to absolute safety. She didn’t act like a jilted lover, but was it real or was she just an excellent actress?

  Still he wanted to know her motives more than anything else because she touched a chord in him—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Cassandra was genuine. Yes, that was it. She had no artifices. No guile. No illusions. Just romantic folderol read in a penny novel by a lonely abandoned schoolgirl in a silent dorm room.

  “I wish for this night never to end,” she whispered as they made a second rotation around the floor.

  “If this waltz was claimed by anyone else, I will order him away.” His leg blended into the skirt of her gown with expertise, and she glided back into him.

  The duke held himself tall as he guided her through the many couples.

  “I love to waltz and I can see you are an accomplished dancer also. Is there no end to your talents?”

  “If you would like to find out, we could walk in the garden.” They twirled and swirled around the dance floor like feathers in a gusty wind, their bodies undulated to the music. Many a head turned as they danced by.

  When the music was over, he led her by her gloved elbow to the balcony. “We seem destined to be on balconies together. The moon is bright tonight and glimmers off the ocean. It’s mystical, is it not?”

  His voice held a slight growl.

  “My, I believe you try to impress me with your considerable expertise. If you enjoy the celestial sky so much, I will ask my cousin to read your horoscope one day. You might find details about yourself you do not know.” She fanned herself lightly with full knowledge her cheeks were pinker than she would prefer.

  “Yes, the duchess does read the stars. Perhaps it would be of interest one day to do so. Can you arrange it or shall I?” he asked. “What could the stars know about me that I don’t already know? Yet, it would allow me another opportunity to be with you.”

  Cassandra ignored the obvious, and stated, “I will ask the duchess when she is available to read for us. Are you free tomorrow?”

  “I am never free, but I could be available,” he answered, his voice teased.

  Sweet heaven, his nearness and just the sandalwood scent of him intoxicated her senses. She was consumed with his powerful presence. What had come over her? He’s a known rake and I a woman ready to be plucked. Sweet heaven.

  Instead, he made her smolder and situated himself directly in front of her. He moved closer, she faced him. The touch of his hand to brush a wisp of curl off her face ignited her. The fire within kindled by his experienced motion—his stealth-like walk and the utter masculinity he employed so well were an added advantage. Helpless to move an inch, she waited. When he moved even closer, she moved back a few paces. Time and space was what she needed. Words, too. What to say next?

  She fumbled, “What is your sign, your Grace?”

  “Let’s see if I remember. Taurus. The bull.”

  “Aptly named, I see.” She smiled at him, then blushed at the realization.

  “Does it show that much?” he asked with a glance that raked over her scandalously. How decadently delicious, no penny novel could convey this sensation.

  She lowered her lashes, “Yes,” she answered. Uncomfortable, she then told him she was a Libra.

  “Of interest,” he commented. “Libra is the virgin to Taurus’s bull.”

  Her silence overwhelmed. Why was it that every moment with him seemed like a forever moment. All she could do was melt in his strong, vise-like arms and it made her wish they were somewhere else where she could explore with him all the new intense emotions that would give her life meaning.

  Cassandra felt his presence like a warm sun that singed and got hotter. She was at a loss as to what to do. How could she be such a ninny? Stay or flee? She could retreat no further because her back was against the marble column. Unless, of course, she turned into a fairy and winged her way upward and disappeared, only to reappear again.

  Althorn murmured, “That’s better, Cassandra. We’re in the dark and can’t be seen.”

  His hand caressed her shoulder and his finger inched the strap of her dress so her complete shoulder was exposed. His mouth kissed her measurably. With little resistance, he then forced her sealed lips apart with his tongue and tantalized her. She melted into the curve of his body. Her soft purr allowed him license to go further. His hand found the other shoulder strap and it, too, slid downward. Fingers skimmed across her breasts and her nipples under the silk became pronounced under his touch. His hands moved gently down the back of her body and slid to her waist and then to her hips. His fingers began a lustful exploration of her soft skin.

  She moaned. “Please. Please.”

  His voice was dulcet and yet husky, as he moved his lips to her forehead. He whispered, “Please, what? Shall I continue or stop?” All the while his tongue lingered on her cheek and punctuated his words with soft, wet kisses. He was obviously in full control, and she was vulnerable to sin.

  “This is unseemly. Duke? Sir? Your Grace? I am…I am…in need of…fresh air.”

  “We are in the evening air. Do you want to walk along the ocean?”

  “No, I do not, you scoundrel. I’m sure someone seeks me and perhaps it’s best if we went back inside?”

  It was a question, not a statement, and he didn’t move.

  “Duke, you are a large man, and I am pinned in this corner. I would like for you to stand back.”

  Impatient now, he ignored the push of her arms. “What a minx you are. It comes naturally, it seems. You’ve played this game before?”

  “I do not play games,” she huffed.

  “Your lips say No, but your reaction pleads otherwise.” He pulled her closer and sought her mouth and tongue again. His lips bruised one moment and were gentle the next. It was like a push-pull act of tease, tongue to tongue, heat to heat, body to hard body. “After all, you were engaged. Perhaps you dallied a bit…were curious? Did his kisses excite you as mine do?”

  “How dare you? I have not indicated your kisses excite me.” Her face wrinkled in a frown, both hands now on his chest in an effort to push him away and provide space.

  “Cassandra,” a voice called as the duchess entered the balcony. When she saw the two of them in the corner, she stopped for a moment.

  The duke immediately pulled back. Embarrassed, Cassandra straightened her gown, and answered, “I was about to return to the ball, Samantha.”

  “Good, then perhaps you will find your brother who looks for you, and I can talk to his Grace for a moment.” She placed herself between Cassandra and the duke. Lady Ravensmere gave a cautionary smile along with her arm to the Duke of Althorn to restrain him.

  When they were alone, the duchess took her fan and smacked his arm lightly. “You are not to seduce her, you rogue. One scandal a season is more than enough. She isn’t what you think. Cassandra has had a difficult young life.” />
  Now what did that mean, he pondered while the duchess continued her lecture. “She isn’t worldly. I won’t have you encourage her when you haven’t a serious intention in your head. It is bad enough a number of men look to such circumstances to take advantage of a jilted woman, but you know better. You are a man of the world.”

  “Why is it that you are so beautiful and you sound just like my mother?” he asked in jest.

  “I’m glad to hear that. Your mother must be a fine woman although I haven’t met her. Now move with me closer to the French doors where we can be seen in amiable conversation. I’m allowed to do this with you because I am a married woman besotted with my husband and no one will think ill of me. Cassandra would be compromised if you were discovered as I found you. Shame on you, Althorn.” She closed her fan and pounded it in her hand. “I will not have you toy with her. There are other women better equipped to enjoy your attention.”

  “Ah, a guardian angel, come to rescue me from a fate worse than death—leg shackled to one woman for the rest of my life.”

  “Do not provoke me, you rascal. I had no intent to rescue you, but my cousin who is dear to me, and she is definitely not for the likes of you. You will promise me to behave appropriately when you are in her company.”

  There was a silence.

  “Althorn.” She flicked her fan open impatiently, stepped toward the entrance. “It is easy to see how any young innocent woman could become dazzled by you.”

  She waited for his answer.

  “I promise to behave appropriate to my manner, duchess. Will that do?”

  “I am not sure what your manner is, but remember I watch you, as will her brother…and my husband. Enough is enough now, though.”

  He escorted her back to the ball. “Duchess, are you sure you don’t want to leave Ravensmere and run away with me?”

  Her brow arched, and she tightened her grip on his arm. “I warn you. I am an excellent shot with a pistol, and I know exactly the vital part to aim at when I pull the trigger.”

  “Ouch!” He laughed in mock pain. “Your cousin is safe with me.”

  “Humph,” she loosened her grip on him. “I doubt that very much.”

  Chapter Six

  The duke decided to walk the beach again. This time he took Clayo, and his attire was indeed informal. He’d left his jacket at the villa, but was still dressed in his waistcoat appropriate to his rank. Crop in his right hand, he strode quickly. Although he would be loathe to admit it, he wanted to see if his Enchantress of the Sea would be out and about. He invited her the night before to walk along the beach, but she didn’t present herself. In his heart, he didn’t think she would t, but nonetheless, it didn’t hurt to ask.

  Clayo plodded alongside him and wagged her tail. He kept at their “stick into the ocean” game, and she promptly retrieved. They played most of the time until either he became bored or Clayo tired.

  His heart leaped when he saw Cassandra. This time the outfit was a dark azure skirt with the same white balloon sleeve blouse, a light blue jacket, and a fetching azure hat with her blonde hair tucked under it. The children were with her. Alicia, wearing a white ruffled dress with many petticoats, ran barefoot and giggled. A huge white bow accented her blonde braid so the wind wouldn’t whip hair in her face. Blue eyes that matched the sky, soft creamy white skin, and a delicate frame gave the girl an impish look. It then occurred to him how much Alicia resembled Cassandra. Could it be a coincidence? Or was there more to it? Was there a secret somewhere?

  Alicia hugged Alfred who was in a white cotton sun suit, tow blond hair also, and barefoot, giggling when the water trickled over his toes.

  It seemed strange how he remembered their names even though they’d never met.

  He felt a tug to his heartstrings at the familial picture that depicted a mother with two children who enjoyed the day at the beach and took turns looking through the telescope. The children stepped on a little wooden stool to get a view.

  “Good morning, Cassandra,” he shouted as Clayo leaped forward. The children were frightened for a moment and then the command was given. “Hold.” The dog sat. “Don’t be afraid. Clayo is playful. Here, Alfred, throw the stick into the ocean and she will fetch it for you. Just ask her to fetch. Can you do that?”

  The boy grinned and threw it. The waves kidnapped the stick and the boy shouted, “Fetch, fetch.”

  Sure enough, Clayo swam over some waves, retrieved the wood, and laid it at the boy’s feet. Alfred was so ecstatic he clapped his hands in glee.

  “May I try?” asked Alicia.

  “Of course.” Clayo performed for quite a while until the duke called a halt to the game and said Clayo needed to dry off and rest a while to regain her strength since she had hungry puppies that awaited her.

  “Puppies? Will we get to see them?” Alicia’s voice was filled with excitement.

  “Certainly, when next you come to visit my mother, I’ll show them to you.”

  “Children, Auntie has been remiss and has not introduced you to his Grace, Althorn, who is a friend of mine. Please greet him appropriately.”

  Alicia curtsied and Alfred gave an unsteady bow. Pleased at their display of manners, she turned to the duke. “I haven’t properly instructed them on the honorifics due your station. We will practice though.”

  “I’m glad I can be a lesson to the children,” he said. “What a novelty.”

  “You pronounce the dog’s name as ‘Clayo’ phonetically, and not Cleo. Was she named after the famous Egyptian Queen?” asked Cassandra.

  “You have the gift of discernment, my lady. I dislike common things since I am a snob, and I admit this with emphasis. Phonetically pronounced, Clayopahtra, or simply Clayo. I like the sound of it, don’t you? It rolls seductively off the tongue.”

  “Oh, yes. It is quite…quite…different the way you say it.” She spoke out of earshot of the children.

  “It brings to mind Julius Caesar and Marc Antony. Both men were predictably involved with an erotic worldly queen,” said the duke, a whisper breath away from her.

  Even his dog had a seductive name. Sweet heaven.

  “Althorn, the children are eager learners. May I request you don’t speak out of turn for then I will be besieged for answers I don’t have.”

  She had visions of him and his tongue. Why did she hear sensuality in all his words? Every time he mentioned the word tongue, she remembered how magical it was to have him explore her lips. She was in deep trouble and fanned the dangerous flames of her imagination. She might be better off if she jumped through fire hoops in a circus.

  “Yes, of course. I see you have your chaperones today,” the duke teased.

  “And good ones they are. My cousin was annoyed with me last night. I’m never to be alone with you, it seems. Your reputation and scandal follow you like sentinels.”

  “Do you always do as you are told?” He moved the telescope to gaze at an object near the horizon.

  “Probably I do…although the risk has to be worth the reward. Somehow I think there’s a great danger in your illustrious presence.” She enjoyed flirtation with him. Her turn to taunt. Cassandra liked the sensations he caused within her. All she knew was, with him, she felt safe, protected and—desirable.

  Very safe.

  Very protected.

  Very desirable.

  She regarded him as a friend.

  A dear one.

  A dangerous one.

  A smoldering one.

  A man who always talked about seduction and sensuality, things she never knew existed. Until now. Did he spend all his time with thoughts about sex?

  “Children, come quickly,” he commanded. “Take a look.” Clearly he enjoyed them since he was like a child himself. “One at a time, I will hold you and direct the scope. That is an English ship out there.”

  “Where? Where?” they asked in unison.

  “Alfie, you go first,” exclaimed Alicia.

  The duke held him strongly on one knee
to get a better look. Cassandra couldn’t help but notice his muscles strained the cloth of his breeches. He could pose for a penny novel. What a magnificent sight.

  Alicia took her turn and asked how he knew it was an English ship.

  “It flies an English flag, but even if it didn’t, the design could only be English since it’s narrow and swift, an excellent example of our fine English ship builders.” Pride was evident in his voice. “It is a British man-of-war, a ship of the line.”

  They all spent a pleasant hour at the beach, searched through the telescope, and then ambled for a short walk to a sand dune. The children had their water pails and proceeded to build a sand castle as Cassandra and the duke conversed.

  “I have an appointment to see the duchess today, your Grace. It seems I’m not to hear the end of my indiscretion last night.”

  “You could have asked me to stop, you know, and I would have.” With an obvious roguish grin, he clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m not sure that’s quite true, but it makes me sound noble so I’ll keep to my story.”

  “It is difficult to protest when one’s mouth is occupied with someone else’s tongue,” she said.

  “Your hands could have pushed me away,” he offered in mock protest.

  “I did try, but believe you had my arms pinned to my sides most of the time, your Grace. Or is that standard procedure for such behavior?” She molded wet sand inside a seashell and affixed it to the cylindrical castle. Cassandra held his attention. “When I attempted to push you away prior to our discovery, you remained rigid.”

  “Perhaps because I thought you weren’t sincere?” Then he added, “You seemed to enjoy it, Cassandra. You haven’t been kissed much. That is evident.”

  “Was I so inadequate, your Grace?” She wanted to know and fought her own inner inhibitions.

  “No, you are innocent, and it invites education on my part.”

  “Do the women you so…educate all have to face angry parents or cousins?”

  “How would I know unless they tell me? There have been no complaints from the ladies. I looked for you on the beach last night, but you didn’t come,” he whispered.