Many a wise woman would forgo their queendom for a dress.
source unknown
Avalon smoothed a hand down the front of her beautiful bronze gown, allowing her fingers to skate over the antique jeweled stomacher brooch. Never before had she felt like a princess at a ball, but wearing this dress tonight made her feel regal, as if she were the queen of everything in her domain. More than a hundred had accepted her invitation to the soiree, and her small ballroom was filled to capacity. The undeniable success of the evening was helped immensely by the Cavenshams.
Her third cousins, the entire Cavensham clan, had come en masse to her charity event and were the first to arrive. Hugs and smiles had been freely given, and for the first time all day, Avalon allowed herself to relax. Everything about this evening would be perfect.
At least, she’d prayed it would be. No doubt it would all depend upon how Devan treated her after she’d scurried out of the vicarage with Thane beside her.
That was entirely the wrong attitude to take this evening. She was the Marchioness of Warwyk, and it was her responsibility to make all her guests feel welcome, even if one was a vicar who made her feel slightly off-kilter.
Sophia came to her side and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you. It’s simply astounding how you’ve helped these women transform their lives. You’re amazing.”
“Nonsense,” Avalon answered.
“I beg to differ, Lady Warrrwyk.”
Devan’s silken voice wrapped itself around her from behind.
Sophia dipped a quick curtsey. “Mr. Farris, it’s so lovely that you’re here.”
He took Sophia’s hand and delivered a perfect courtly bow. “Good evening, Lady Sophia,” he said.
“If you’ll excuse me? I see Flora and want to chat before the auction starts.” Without waiting for an answer, Sophia turned and walked in the direction where the gowns were displayed.
Not to appear too eager at Devan’s arrival, Avalon forced her gaze to the golden and silver silks decorating the windows. The yards and yards of material glittered as if vying for his attention. The red roses from the Warwyk Hall hothouse were breathtakingly lovely and filled the entire room in a delicate floral scent.
But Devan stood close enough that a hint of his familiar cologne along with a clean pure scent of male wafted her way as he waved a hand around the room. As if delighted he’d finally arrived, her pulse pounded in welcome. She leaned slightly backward, and his hand rested on the small of her back—as if claiming her as his. With only Devan and her with their backs to the ballroom doors, no one could see such an intimate caress. The rest of her guests were milling around the dresses and other items for auction in the center of the room.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Though it was scandalous, she’d fantasized about Devan nightly, her thoughts wild and salacious as she imagined all the things they could do to pleasure each other in bed.
Her traitorous body melted at his slight touch, and all she wanted in that moment was to lean against him and luxuriate in his warmth while his arms surrounded her. Immediately, she stepped away to increase the distance between them. Ready for the evening, she was happy and slightly nervous for the event to start. With him so close, everything seemed to be amplified.
“Avalon, are you wary of me?” Devan’s soft words floated around them.
She didn’t answer. Somewhere in this ballroom, she’d lost her mind as the memories of the wine cellar flooded her with heat. That had to be the answer for her lack of poise this evening. However, she’d put all that bother aside. This was a special night, and she’d do what she pleased.
“Welcome, Mr. Farris,” she purred. She pivoted to face him, and as a result, the sweep of her bronze silk skirt kissed his legs with a swish. “Why would I be wary of a man such as yourself? A man whose sole purpose in life is to guide others to the pearly gates that promise joyous rapture to all.” She tapped her chin twice and regarded him. “Makes me wonder who guides you? Perhaps it’s best to ask who you would desire to guide you?”
His eyes widened at the innuendo in her voice. “Guide me in what?”
“Oh, come now, sir. I think you know the answer,” she teased. She lightly caressed the jeweled brooch to keep from betraying the shaking of her hands. She’d never in her life flirted so shamelessly with a man before.
His gaze darted to the exposed skin of her décolletage and his nostrils flared. That one movement on his part told her that her flirting was having its intended effect, and she’d never felt so alive.
“My, my.” His green eyes twinkled. “Lady Warlock is in rare form this evening.”
“Indeed,” she answered and flipped open the matching jeweled fan Jasmine had given her to accompany the dress. “It’s such a relief,” she sighed dramatically.
“Pray tell, what do you find a relief?” he asked with an unmistakable hint of laughter in his voice.
“You didn’t call me ‘my Lady Warlock.’ Finally, you understand I’m not yours.” She leaned toward him slightly as if sharing a secret. “But perhaps I’ll accept the title of Lady Warlock. It’s so much easier to be bad when everyone expects it of you.”
His gentle laugh reminded her of a caress, one she felt all the way to her bare skin.
“You spoke of ‘pearly gates’ earlier.” His gaze swept slowly over her gown. You look like heaven.”
Caught off guard by the vibrancy in his voice, she stared when his eyes smoldered with the promise of forbidden pleasure in their depths. This man wasn’t a simple country vicar, but someone who had the power to turn her world upside down.
Avalon wanted that promise this evening. She’d allow herself to experience all the simple pleasures she’d missed in her life like harmlessly flirting with an attractive man, and how perfect it would be if Devan would fulfill such wishes. Such power promised to be a heady aphrodisiac, and she wanted it—tonight—with him.
“Do you want to experience heaven, Devan?”
His lips tugged upward, revealing two deep dimples she immediately wanted to explore with her lips. “Are you offering paradise?”
“I can act as gatekeeper.” Without taking her gaze from his, she closed her fan. Without looking, she flicked her wrist and opened it panel by panel. “Open my gates, and you’ll find bliss.”
He exhaled slowly as he tightened his own hands into fists as if trying to maintain control. “Lady Warlock,” he murmured. “You’re playing with fire.”
“You can put it out,” she countered.
“You’d best be careful, or I’ll do just that.” He stepped a little closer, and his heat enveloped her like a lover’s embrace.
“I’m certain we’d both enjoy it.” She took a deep breath, the movement emphasizing the bared skin of her chest. “But be forewarned. I’ll start another blaze between us.”
“And I’ll put it out again and again. All night with relentless pleasure … for both of us.”
His word conjured all sorts of salacious and redolent images. She could imagine his hands skating slowly down her skin, learning all her body’s secrets as she learned his.
The small orchestra started to play a waltz.
“Avalon.” Her name on his lips was a plea for what they both knew couldn’t happen but seemed inevitable as the seconds ticked by. “Dance with me.”
Before she could answer, Sophia sidled up to them and Avalon took a small step back. Devan blinked as if he himself were coming out of a trance.
Without any awareness of what she’d interrupted, Sophia turned to Avalon. “Jasmine and Flora need your help. After this dance finishes, Mrs. Rowley wants to make an announcement about the auction.”
Sophia nodded again to Devan, then headed toward the dais set up for tonight’s event.
Avalon nodded also, but with more reserve than Sophia had exhibited. It was time to return to the real world. “Vicar.”
“Don’t you dare put distance between us.” Devan stepped closer. “Please don’t,” he whispered. “You’ve shown me your true self, and I’m enchanted. I’ll be waiting until you return to my side.”
“What if I never do?”
“I think you will.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. The warmth from his hand burned through the satin of her gloves. “But I have no objection to taking the lead on this delightful path you’ve introduced us to.”
“I’ve always enjoyed exploring new paths.” Without waiting for his answer, Avalon returned to her guests. All the while, his intense gaze burned a hole straight through her heart.
She now understood the power contained in Cupid’s quiver.
Devan watched Avalon cross the room. With a gentle sway of her hips, the magnificent gown she wore shimmered in the candlelight. His body burned deep inside with each subtle movement she made. He’d known desire for a woman, yet always he’d been careful and able to keep it under lock and key.
But not this magical night. His Warlock called to him like no other had ever done before. The charming interlude they’d created deserved to be nurtured.
He smiled as she elegantly and efficiently managed the ladies of her committee while they twittered about the mounds of dresses up for auction. Though Avalon had other women as part of her committee, everyone knew that it was Avalon and her plans that had created this marvelous evening to benefit her charity, and specifically Annie Dozier, Jasmine Sinclair, and Flora Leona.
Every now and then, she’d glance his way and catch him staring. Unwilling to break the magic they’d shared, he’d smile. Each time, a beautiful blush colored her cheeks, and in response his heart would beat harder as if demanding to break out of his chest and fly straight to her. If she were his, then after tonight when all the guests had gone home, they’d fall into bed together where they’d discover all the wonders of sharing each other without any barriers between them. Skin to skin, mouth to mouth, they’d finally join their bodies together in a dance older than civilization.
He’d make her hunger for no one but him. Just like he hungered for her.
Restless, Devan released a sigh, one born of patience. He and Avalon were so similar, and frankly, he was surprised that he hadn’t seen it before now. It had nothing to do with their good works for others, but more about the growing desire for one another. They both wanted to be careful in seeking a partner. He had little doubt that once she gave her heart it’d be forever—just like him. But unlike her, Devan had never been hurt. She carried scars that he’d give anything to soothe. Whatever she needed, he’d gladly give her, and they’d both be the richer.
“Vicar?” A woman’s voice broke his reverie.
He looked down to discover Penelope Rowley before him. “Good evening, Miss Rowley.” He clasped the hand she’d lifted and offered an abbreviated but expected customary bow. At once, he took a slight step backward.
Her brows grew together at his coolness, but she offered a small smile. “I’d wondered if you’d like to sit with my aunt and uncle and me. The auction will soon start, and my aunt has promised to bid on the pink satin for me. She says it’s perfect for me as it will enhance my complexion. I’m afraid I may become overcome with all the excitement. Your presence would help calm me, I’m certain.”
Before he could politely decline, his friend Paul, the Duke of Southart, drew to his side. “I’m afraid, Miss Rowley, that my duchess and I have already coerced Mr. Farris to sit by us.”
A scowl twisted her face as her brows knitted together. She dipped a small curtsey. “Your Grace.” Without taking her leave of Devan, she scurried back to the auction proceedings.
Paul watched her retreating form. “Devan, I’ve had my share of experience with women, both good and bad, before I fell in love with Daphne. But I remember enough to know when I see trouble brewing. You’d best be careful with that one.”
“She’s just a young girl.” Devan’s gaze immediately drifted to Avalon, who stood center in the front of the room as the auction began.
“She’s been lurking, waiting for you and Avalon to finish your discussion before she approached you. As soon as the marchioness left your side, Miss Rowley rushed to join you,” Paul said. “But enough of that.” His gaze followed Devan’s to the front of the room. Immediately, one of his lopsided smiles appeared. “Avalon is looking lovely this evening, isn’t she?”
“Your Grace, you may have a difference of opinion, but she’s the most beautiful woman here.”
“I feel the same way about my duchess.” Paul looked to his wife, Daphne, and immediately his eyes glowed with tender affection. “A piece of advice. Opportunity waits for no one. Bold moves require bold actions.”
Devan laughed in spite of himself. “When have you ever seen me bashful?”
Paul regarded him, then held out his hand for Devan to accompany him to their seats. “I’ll answer your question with one of my own. Why are you hiding in the back of the room with a look that you obviously want her?”
“That noticeable, is it?” Devan answered distractedly.
“I know you better than anyone else, and I’ve never seen you this way. I believe you’re smitten. Perhaps you’re finally in love with a woman.”
“A spectacular one at that,” Devan murmured.
“You prove my point,” the duke said in return. “I should know. I found one of my own.”
As the duke settled in next to his duchess, he turned to her and a charming smile adorned his face. The duke’s face had softened with a look of desire that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.
Devan shook his head slightly. There was a huge difference between the two of them. Paul was deeply in love with his wife.
His heart tightened. He couldn’t be falling in love with Avalon this quickly. Could he?