Chapter Fourteen

The gentle hand that restrained him relieved Raven. Samantha removed her gloves and placed them in her reticule. “I fear you might have misunderstood me,” she said with a sly smile. “I’m happy to be with such a handsome man at this event. Because of you, its success has exceeded any expectations. There will be sufficient funds for the school. I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“For a few hours, can we cease the verbal barbs and enjoy this repast?” He made sure to use a soft tone of voice.

“Is it your intent to call a truce, Raven? We will be the talk of the ton. Harbinger tongues will wag and link our names together. I hope that doesn’t distress you.” She paused and gifted him a smile. “I want to enjoy this special moment with you and gaze into your amazing dark gray eyes. Yes, I would like a truce.”

He liked how joy bubbled in her laughter and shone in her eyes. He let his smile set the tone since Samantha seemed most agreeable.

“I particularly like the musk scent of your cologne.” She leaned in to whisper, “You have given me the chance to relax for the first time this afternoon.”

He noticed how she hung to his every word, whether in admiration or desperation, the excitement would see them through the afternoon, and evening. “Your emeralds are beautiful, Samantha. How generous of your aunt to gift you. I’m entranced with the pendant and how it falls.” He fingered his vest. “It’s attraction to your bosom invites inspection.” He paused, then added, “Is that a blush that reddens your cheeks?”

“I will share a secret with you, Raven.” She smiled in all wickedness and guile as if to share a mysterious fact. “I think my aunt must have been a woman of sensual delights,” she whispered in his ear, her warm lips close to his ear lobe, “because she designed it that way. I confess, it does draw attention to my attributes, as you put it, doesn’t it?”

Raven was smitten with her shameless flirtation. He never enjoyed an afternoon more than this one because she abandoned decorum and practiced her feminine wiles. Yes, that was the difference, her total femininity shined through her protective wall, and it appeared all her defenses melted. And the afternoon was still young. Could she be unaware of the seductive picture she displayed when she smiled? Or was it that there was no one who could bring out the wanton in her with sweet phrases and lusty kisses?

Oh, would that he could be the emerald strategically placed between those globes. He withheld his sigh and his thoughts, and in disciplined deliberation changed the subject, “Are you about to serve, dear lady? I’m famished.”

There was hunger within him for her and more of her time. He knew without reservation that he would gladly pay another thousand pounds to nestle his head between her breasts. And even more for one night alone with her, but somehow he surmised one night would never be enough to satisfy his desire to erase all distance between them with his penchant to touch, explore, and satisfy.

She sparked of eroticism and everything female, like a mystical goddess calling his name who didn’t need lessons in feminine wiles. They came to her naturally when she wasn’t on her soapbox. He allowed a smile to curl his lips.

“Will this be enough food for you?” Samantha asked. “I don’t know your meal habits, Raven. Some men have enormous appetites.”

“There are times my appetite can be voracious.” With a hint of double entendre, he added, “It depends on that which I hunger.”

Apparently unaware of his meaning, she served him the lunch, and they managed to devour the food with grace. The thoughtful cook had provided rosewater saturated cloths to wipe their hands.

“Some burgundy wine?” He extended the bottle to pour.

“No, thank you, Raven. The champagne has made me a little giddy. I wish to regain my composure.”

“I rather like you when you’re less inhibited.”

“I’ll remember that comment when we are in more private quarters,” she said.

What a pity. He’d like her to lose said composure one day and one night. “I know where private quarters are available, my lady.”

“I would wager that you do,” she teased with mirth.

His thoughts headed in a wayward direction, so he took a moment to survey the crowd. Everyone appeared busy in conversation with their ladies of choice, and he could imagine the sweet flattery that emanated in the hidden words and meanings. He thought the auction a novel idea. All proprieties recognized, yet a little freedom given to possible slight indiscretions and intrigues? What a colossal idea.

“Is there a special occasion that caused your aunt to gift you the gems?” he inquired, fixated on the swell of her breasts and the depth of the emerald color of her neckpiece.

Samantha fingered the large pendant. “No, Raven. She just wanted to do this for me. It was her favorite. My aunt has no daughters, and as a little girl, we became attached to each other.” She added, “Because there is no one yet to gift me such a superb piece.”

“If you belonged to me, I would drape you in gems from head to toe—naked, of course.” How the risqué words escaped his lips amazed him. Such words would never have left his lips before. He preferred action to words, yet Raven tested the waters.

“I beg your pardon?” Samantha arched her eyebrows.

“If my comment shocks, I apologize. A woman such as you should be adorned with jewels and furs, and cloaked in the love of an adoring man. Surely, if your late husband lived, he would have done so.” He noted a change in her expression when her forehead creased. Perhaps her husband wouldn’t be generous? Did such a fool exist? To him, he hoped the last statement would lighten the moment and deflect his inappropriate comment from a man of his stature in this particular time and place. He reserved the right to speak those same words in a more intimate setting—like his bedroom chambers when he just might gift her with a duchess’s tiara.

In a moment of absolute mischief, Samantha spoke, “I see though you, too, are a connoisseur of fine jewelry.”

He surmised she referred to Lady Buxton’s sapphire jewelry. “You agreed to a truce,” he said in a less serious tone and wondered what would happen next. He never could tell with her. It was a part of her allure.

“Indeed, I did. Thank you for your reminder. One couldn’t help but notice the superb gems matched the lady’s beautiful eyes.” Samantha looked away for a moment.

“Yes, I’m sure it was the reason I secured the purchase as a farewell present. I will speak no more on this subject, Samantha.” He didn’t know why he said what he did. It had just occurred to him it would indeed be a goodbye gift to Lady Buxton.

Since his return from the continent, he had not graced the lady’s bedchamber, nor did he have a need, an inclination, nor a desire to do so. Such pleasures were reserved for a woman with flame colored hair. The time had come for separation from his mistress. Raven couldn’t be unkind, and a long relationship deserved reward with thanks and no pitiful moments. It sounded to him like balderdash on his part. Truth of the matter was the time had come to part from his mistress.

It appeared Samantha would not leave the subject.

“Oh, will you seek another candidate for the position?” Samantha asked in a haughty tone.

“You are impertinent again. Damnation.” He paused, but took her lead and decided to make a game of her playfulness. “The possibility exists. I’d have to survey the available women.” He asked with a wry smile, “Are you an applicant for the position?”

Her face shrank back in surprise; she raised her chin in defiance.

“I ought to take you over my knee and spank you for your inappropriate question and careless disregard, Samantha.”

“You have no right to chastise me. You’re not my father or my brother. If you do so, I’ll scream. My brother and his friends will come to my aid. You’ll either have to fight a duel or do right by me.” Her smile became much too coy. “I’m rather fond of Brandon, and I don’t want him shot by the likes of you. Besides, what will people think of the somber and serious Duke of Ravensmere?”

“That the likes of me has lost his mind.”

She laughed with such contagious gusto.

He riveted his eyes to hers. To do right by her might not be such a chore. He extended his hand. “Stroll with me a while.” Both of them needed to cool off. He knew deep within his core he could lose his heart. Her disposition challenged him at every juncture. He could breach her façade of walls with some ease—or difficulty. He answered himself and found it hard to understand her intentions or his own.

Raven pondered her words and actions. “Samantha, there are times I feel you encourage me. When I respond, there are times you take offense. I believe you are a flirt.” He paused and raised the question, “Do you know what happens to women who tease?”

“They find themselves involved in a difficult circumstance?” she answered with a question.

His interest arose noting she wet her lower lip in a deliberate gesture to convey her provocative nature. “I would like to pose a thought for your consideration.” He spoke in a serious tone, arm in arm, and continued down the path.

“Ask away, my duke.”

“What man would spend one thousand pounds for a two-hour lunch with a woman if he didn’t have some honorable intentions? I did this in front of the ton and the church. You must be aware of this fact, isn’t it so?” He stopped and faced her, and ran one long finger down the side of her cheek, her skin so soft it compared to satin. He traced her pink lips, which were full and suggestive.

Not until this moment did he recognize his intention could be honorable. No, he would never take Samantha as his mistress, although the thought tantalized his senses. She wanted forever. He could be amenable, for he now realized he wanted forever too.

They resumed their walk. The alternate path Raven chose was lined by trees which soared and whose boughs intertwined overhead to form an arch, and yet still allowed sunlight and shadows to interplay. As they passed by, the flowers perked their heads and stood at attention, cultivated to be in color throughout the season.

Raven said in a whisper, “Since you speak with such boldness, I’m encouraged to do so also.” His voice became low and soft. “You are an enigma to me. For the first time, this man of the world is lost, and I find my thoughts are invaded by you. I would like to get to know you better. If we can be but civil to one another, it would be of great assistance. Do you think you could cooperate and compromise?” At the risk of her indignation at the word compromise, he said no more.

When Samantha didn’t speak, he sought her lips and sampled them, at first with gentleness. Then with more fervor as his anxious tongue explored the satin recesses of her mouth. He noted she returned his advances pleasurably with equal ardor, allowed him entry and unspoken permission to plunder. The experience titillated at the sensation she created.

Raven pulled away, his right arm leaned against the tree, yet he still covered her with his body. His other hand caressed her cheek again in an intimate gesture. The sound of her moan encouraged him to set his lips to hers once more. He was like a lover turned free to soar in an invitation to a joint dreamlike flight.

He whispered in a low husky tone, “Samantha, this has been a journey of rediscovery of my desire. You should be kissed and often by someone who flames your natural passion. You are an elemental woman.” He wanted to taste her in sweet—hmm, soft liquid places which could shock her, but no. She would not be taken aback after all. Everyone knew widows experienced the total joys of sexual relations.

The thought of such sport with her raced his pulse. He told himself he just wanted to see how far she would go with him. The strong need to form an attachment to her consumed him. In the back of his mind, he remembered a promise made to another woman.

She repeated his words, “Curious choice, Raven. When you say elemental woman, I wonder how so?” Her eyes appeared to dance a forbidden midnight waltz for him.

“Because my dear lady, you are essential.”

“To what, Raven?”

“Perhaps to my future, Samantha. There is much I have to sort out.”

While he referred to the politics of the day, his position in Parliament, and the new cartel, the latter started to cause him great concern. It now seemed possible someone leaked the information. He wondered if the woman now with him might have spoken out of hand. Everything in him didn’t want to believe she could betray. It would be a heart-kicking event of horrendous proportions.

Samantha, what is the secret you hide? When will you confide in me?