Out Of Her League, An Erotic Romance (16 page)

And, for the first time in her life, truly beautiful. Gone was Kate the dull, drab, and dutiful nurse. In her place was the woman Kate had always dreamed of being. Strong and confident. A woman who lived without regrets or recriminations.

Her hair had been swept up, piled high atop her head in a mass of thick golden curls, with a few of the soft tendrils allowed to escape and cascade over her left shoulder. The burgundy silk wrapped around her generous curves, expertly hugging her body to emphasize her lush womanly form. The fabric brushed her legs as she moved, rustling against her thighs like a lover’s whisper.

James, James, James. The single word pulsed through her with every beat of her heart. After an absence of two days, she would see him again tonight.

Bertie and George had not been there to see her off. She had hoped enough residual affection remained between them for a personal armistice, but apparently it wasn’t meant to be. Instead, it was Dr. Michaelson who accompanied her to Lady Lancaster’s ball. Their carriage deposited them at a Mayfair mansion that was fairly aglow with candlelight, bustling with servants and guests.

It was a warm evening; doors to the ballroom had been thrown open to allow cooling breezes to sweep the room. Music drifted out to greet them as they mounted the steps to the manse. They’d missed the beginning series of quadrilles, Kate noted, recognizing the opening notes of a waltz.

As they stepped into the ballroom, Kate felt as though she were walking into a scene that had been carved into her memory. It was all so familiar: the dizzying array of enormous gilt mirrors, the elegantly dressed crowd sweeping effortlessly across the dance floor, the candlelight and the servants, the stunning floral arrangements and the scrumptious array of food. It was almost too lovely to bear.

And there, in the center of it all—or at least it appeared that way to her—was James Lancaster. Tall, muscular, and strikingly handsome in a way that went beyond mere attractiveness. It wasn’t just his dashing uniform, or the way the candlelight warmed the streaks of gold in his thick chestnut hair, or the laughter that sparkled in his deep blue eyes.

He exuded an air of carefree virility, a dynamic combination of wealth, poise, and masculine confidence. He was the magnetic axis around which the females in the room spun and swayed, desperately vying for his attention.

It was exactly the way she remembered it, only this time, the scene had changed. Kate was no longer the wallflower she’d been in the past. As she strode into the room on Dr. Michaelson’s arm, heads turned. A low murmur followed in her wake. James, alerted to her presence by the stir she created, looked up.

His gaze locked on hers. For a moment the rest of the room shrank away, leaving only the two of them. Then he smiled. His lips curved in his slow, wicked smile, the smile she loved best. The smile he used before he removed her last item of clothing. Before he petted and caressed the most sensitive spots on her body. Heat infused her cheeks and her heart rate doubled.

Perhaps another woman would have the strength to resist him, but she didn’t.

James made his way through the crowd and was at her side. He greeted Dr. Michaelson politely, then offered her his arm and escorted her onto the dance floor. She moved into his embrace as naturally as breathing.

“You are beyond breathtaking,” he said by way of greeting.

“Thank you,” she said. Together they glided across the floor, their bodies swaying in perfect sync.

James drew his hand up her spine. “You’ll note I’m executing these stupendously graceful moves without the benefit of a cane. I do hope I won’t drop you.”

“You won’t,” she said, tilting her gaze up to his. “You’ll be happy to hear I’ve finally learned to stand on my own.”

“Is that so?” He searched her face. “What an interesting development.”

“Actually, it’s long overdue.”

“It suits you. You look more radiant than ever.” He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “I hope you’ll allow me to claim every dance this evening.”

“Wouldn’t that be rather scandalous?”

His wicked smile returned. “Perhaps that shall be my pet name for you. Lady Scandal.”

The music ended before she could form a reply. He guided her off the floor, moving with purpose and determination, pausing to introduce her to his mother’s guests and engage in idle chat only when not doing so would be the height of rudeness. Finally they were alone, blocked from view of the rest of the guests by a strategically placed painted screen.

Kate gazed at him in confusion. Her first thought was that he had brought her there in order to engage in an illicit embrace. But the somberness of his features quickly dispelled that notion.

“Your gown is almost perfect,” he said.

“Almost?”

“Yes. As I look at you now, I realize there was an oversight. When I arranged to have your gown sent, I omitted something rather crucial for a woman’s attire.”

“Oh?”

“Jewelry.”

Kate shook her head. “You’ve been more than generous. I couldn’t accept anything else.”

“I hope you’ll change your mind. I should very much like to see you wear this.” He removed a small black velvet box and placed it in her hand.

Kate stilled. For a moment, she felt as though she’d been dropped from a tall height and hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from her body. Finally she composed herself enough to tilt back the lid. An enormous, glistening diamond ring winked up at her. She drew in a sharp breath.

“It belonged to my grandmother. Now it shall be yours.”

“Oh.” Her voice sounded small and faraway.

“Katherine Riley,” he said, his breath softly fanning her ear, “will you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”

A small, tremulous smile curved her lips as tears pooled in her eyes.

“I would kneel, but you of all people know how difficult it would be for me to stand up again. I’d rather not look like a horse’s ass at this moment.”

A helpless bubble of laughter escaped her lips. “Oh, James.” She threw her arms around his neck, crushing her body against his, kissing him with all the passion and love that burned within her.

“There are a few matters that require discussion,” he said a few minutes later, once they’d ended their embrace. He tugged his hand through his hair, as though searching for the right place to begin. “You’ll note this ball has a rather patriotic theme. At some point within the hour, the dancing will be interrupted for refreshments and speeches. Not only will we be rallying our guests to visit the returning soldiers at St. Thomas Hospital,” he paused and sent her a small smile, “it will be announced that I have accepted a post with the War Office and will be leaving England to serve abroad.”

“I know,” she said. “I heard.”

“You heard? How? Then you must have thought...”

“That you were leaving me,” she said.

He paled and reached for her. “No. Never. I would have mentioned it sooner, but the position wasn’t officially approved until yesterday evening.”

“Where will you be stationed?”

“Where will we be stationed,” he corrected, then answered, “With the diplomatic corps in Paris. It’ll just be a few years, until the war ends, then we’ll return to England.” He searched her gaze. “I know you weren’t planning to leave the country—”

“Actually, I was,” she interrupted, her eyes wide as she realized she was scheduled to depart in the morning. “Dr. Michaelson asked me to accompany him to the Crimea.”

“I see.” He studied her in silence, his shock evident. After a moment, he said, “I know how much your work means to you. Perhaps there’s a way to do both—”

“No.” She shook her head, lightly resting her hand on his chest as she gazed up at him. “Dr. Michaelson is a fine man and an excellent physician. But there are other nurses who can assist him in the Crimea. There’s only one you. I choose you.”

He ran his knuckles along her cheek. “Even if it means introducing me to those brothers of yours? They’re here, you know.”

Her brows shot skyward. “Bertie and George? Here?”

“Absolutely. I mean to do this properly. I visited them at St. Thomas yesterday afternoon and insisted they be here when we announced our betrothal—assuming you would have me, of course.” His lips quirked. “They’re quite the pair, aren’t they?”

“They are indeed.”

James wrapped his arms around her. “Speaking of older brothers, that means you’ll have to meet mine, as well. And their wives. Their children. Assorted cousins, aunts and uncles. Oh, and my mother. They’re all on pins and needles waiting to meet you. Well, all of them except my mother. She remembers you quite vividly.”

A knot of nervous tension tightened Kate’s belly as she recalled the imperious viscountess. “She does?”

“Indeed. She has somehow formed the opinion that the termination of my relationship with Miss Vanessa Kittworthy had something to do with you.” He waited a beat, then continued, “For that, she is exceedingly grateful. As am I.”

“You are?”

“Yes, I am. However, there is one thing I feel obliged to make up to you.”

“Oh?”

“You told me you gave up your holiday in Paris to attend to me. I should like to rectify that. I’ll take you on a personal tour of the city. The shops of the Champs-Elysées, the Louvre, a moonlit boat ride down the Seine. And I’ve heard they have the most marvelous boutiques for something called lingerie...”

Kate let out her breath as her heart swelled within her chest. Her joy felt boundless.

“I should brush up on my French,” she managed.

“There’s only one phrase you’ll need to know. I’ll start that lesson right now.” He leaned close, whispering in her ear, “Je t’aime. Je t’aime, Kate. I love you.”

Ava Archer Payne has been writing historical romance for 15 years under a variety of pseudonyms. She's been published by several mainstream houses, but with the advent of ebooks, she's been able to place her work directly in the hands of readers. What a fabulous privilege for an author!

Look for Ava's forthcoming release, "The Wedding Bed" due out in November 2012.