Out Of Her League, An Erotic Romance (5 page)

“What are you intending?”

“Damned if I know.”

“This certainly isn’t proper.”

“Damned if I care.”

To her utter astonishment, Kate wasn’t entirely certain she cared, either. She’d played the part of dutiful daughter, dutiful sister, and dutiful nurse her entire life. Now, at the age of three and twenty, she was coming to the realization that the role didn’t entirely suit her. She’d lived her life as though crammed into a pair of shoes that had been pinching and cramping her for years. Here was an opportunity to try something scandalous and new. An invitation to see what she’d been missing, if only she had the courage to reach for it.

She moistened her lips, tipped back her head, and closed her eyes.

For a fraction of a second time stood still. Kate was overwhelmed by the horrifying certainty she’d misread his intentions. Then James’s lips brushed hers. The pressure on her mouth was light and gentle, allowing her the opportunity to change her mind, to slip away if she wanted to. So, a gentleman after all. The gesture, touching as it was, was wasted.

Kate stepped closer.

James gave a low moan and wrapped one strong arm around her waist, drawing her tightly into his embrace. His kiss deepened, becoming hard and unyielding. He coaxed her lips apart and swept his tongue into her mouth. Kate stiffened in shocked surprise. Not allowing her to pull away, he caressed her lower back, silently encouraging her to surrender to his sweet, sensual assault. She absorbed the feel of his kiss, the taste of his mouth, the stroke of his tongue against her own.

Pleasure curled her toes and spiralled up her spine. She melted into him, lost in a dizzying vortex of heat and desire.

A single crutch clattered to the floor. Long ingrained instinct, born of years walking the wards, sounded an alarm. She should reach for the crutch, assist him. But in some dim corner of her mind it occurred to her that he didn’t need her help. He held her firmly against his long, masculine length, an anchor in a storm of sensation, not the least bit thrown off-balance. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with reckless abandon, losing herself in the lusty rhythm of their embrace.

Then, just as Kate was certain she couldn’t take anymore, when her response to their kiss veered from pleasure to driving, aching need, James tore his lips from hers. He nibbled the lobe of her ear and licked the sensitive column of her throat. Shivers of delight rang down her spine like a peel of tiny silver bells. He reached for the topmost button of her gown and unfastened it.

Kate’s hands flew up to cover his. “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears.

“Do you want me to stop?”

A beat. “No,” she confessed.

James let out a sigh that could only be interpreted as intense relief. He worked another button free. “Excellent. Because I don’t think I could stand another day not knowing if that one brief glimpse I had of you in that corset was as stunning as I remember.”

“I’ve never worn it before,” she admitted softly. “Never worn any of it.”

“Oh?” His focus momentarily shifted from the buttons of her gown to a single curl that had escaped from its bun at the nape of her neck. He toyed with it, absently twisting the soft golden tendril around his finger. “A gift from a lover,” he surmised.

“Certainly not.” Kate could feel the heat flame her cheeks. “I’ve never, that is...I don’t...I’m not...” Her voice trailed off as she chewed her bottom lip.

“Oh?” He studied her with open curiosity, his deep blue eyes intense and searching.

“I saw them shop and I wanted them.” For Paris. They were a highly improper undergarments, but she hadn’t purchased them for anyone else to see. That hadn’t been her intention. She had simply wanted, for once, to feel beautiful. Desirable. And then, when her trip abroad had been taken away, she’d somehow worked up the courage to don the garments anyway. Her words tumbled over themselves as she tried to explain.

He shook his head, studying her in bewilderment. “You’ve forgone a holiday in Paris to be here instead? Why?”

“Would you rather I wasn’t?” she challenged.

A slow, sinful smile curved his lips. “No, definitely not.” He leaned closer, his words fanning her cheek. “I am very, very glad you’re here.”

The warmth of his body and the rich, masculine scent of his skin swirled around her, making her senses swim. She fought to clear her thoughts. What she was doing was wrong, entirely improper. There was no excuse for her behavior. Yet longing coursed through her, carrying with it a need so deep she couldn’t keep her curiosity buried another second. He kissed her neck and worked another button free.

“My brothers wouldn’t approve,” she said.

“No, I suspect they wouldn’t. Brothers tend to be notoriously difficult when it comes to this sort of thing.”

Kate shook her head, wanting to correct him. Bertie and George wouldn’t object to the scandalousness of her undergarments—well, actually, they might—but their true objection would be to the fact that she’d dared spend her wages on herself. The thought brought a giggle to her lips.

Misunderstanding the direction of her thoughts, James smiled and whispered in her ear, “Are you wearing it now?”

“The scarlet corset?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Pity.”

“The one I’m wearing is black, so sheer it should be indecent, but I couldn’t resist it, as it’s edged with the loveliest bit of emerald lace...”

She hadn’t finished her sentence before his fingers moved to the front of her gown and edged it open ever-so-slightly. Her corset lifted the soft, creamy swell of her breasts and thrust them upward, the emerald lace exposing the barest hint of the deep pink areoles surrounding her nipples.

“Ah.” He clenched his jaw, then exhaled slowly. “Do you have any idea how exquisite you are?”

He brought his head down, brushing his lips across the tops of her breasts. He’d shaved, but he hadn’t done a proper job of it. As the dark line of his jaw moved across her flesh, the light stubble on his chin tickled and teased her skin. She drank in each dizzying sensation: the firm male grip of his hands as he cupped her breasts, the surprising softness of his lips, the prickly rub of razor stubble. He drew one taut pink nipple into his mouth and lightly grazed it with his teeth.

Shock coursed through her body. Kate gave a soft gasp and arched her back, digging her fingers through James’s hair. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, causing it to tighten into a hard, rosy pink bud. Desire blossomed within her and became an aching, hungry thing. She pressed herself closer, reaching for something she couldn’t define.

Though she wanted more, James somehow maintained the presence of mind to draw back. He lifted his head and kissed her on the lips, long and hard. Then, emitting a deep sigh of regret, he pulled back and gently set her away from him. “If we don’t return shortly, our absence will be noted.”

Of course. How had she forgotten Dr. Michaelson would be waiting for them? Removed from James’s embrace, the air cooled her skin and sobered her thoughts. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Kate reached for the buttons of her gown and began to draw them closed. James stopped her. His brows drew together in a frown as he studied the deep pink rash that spread across her chest.

He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin, immediately recognizing its cause. “Horrible of me to mar something so beautiful. Unforgiveable, really.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It might sting later.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I insist you allow me to make amends.” With a look of boyish playfulness, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the jar of menthol balm she’d given him days earlier. “I’m told this works wonders in soothing the skin.”

Before she could object, he twisted open the lid and lightly smoothed the mint balm over the tops of her breasts. His touch was gentle and unhurried, soothing in a way Kate couldn’t possibly have anticipated. She glanced down, entranced by the juxtaposition of his dark, masculine hands slowly tracing circles over the milky whiteness of her breasts. After a moment he pulled back, allowing her to finish buttoning her gown.

No sooner had she completed the task when Dr. Michaelson entered the room. “There you are,” the physician called cheerfully. “You do have a rather grand home, Mr. Lancaster, but I knew I’d find you eventually.” Spying James’s crutch on the ground, he lifted it and returned it to James. “Everything all right?”

James gave an easy shrug. “Dropped it when I turned. I’m still a bit clumsy with the blasted things.”

Dr. Michaelson smiled. “Not to worry. If my treatment progresses the way I hope it will, soon you won’t need them at all.” He turned to Kate. “Well, Nurse? I have other patients waiting for me at St. Thomas. I trust you’re ready to depart?”

“Certainly.” Kate moved to stand beside the physician. “We were just watching the storm.”

“It’s stopped,” Michaelson said.

“Pardon?”

“The rain. It’s stopped.”

“Of course,” Kate replied, somehow managing to keep her tone cool and professional. Not daring to risk a glance at James, she straightened her cap and gave a brisk nod. “That’s precisely what I meant. We ought to leave while there’s a break in the weather.”

There had been no shortage of women in the Crimea. The lascivious ladies of the Ottoman Empire followed the army camps in droves, discreetly assuring the needs of its soldiers were met. They were beautiful women with dark eyes and sly smiles that clearly conveyed a knowledge of how to satisfy man’s more carnal appetites, no matter where his personal proclivities lie.

The more money a man possessed, the more sexually talented and attractive the woman he could enjoy. And like other men of means, James had not hesitated to avail himself of their abundant charms.

So it wasn’t abstinence that caused Nurse Riley to spark such unparalleled hunger in him. Nor was it mere sexual curiosity. Something about his pretty little nurse struck a chord deep within him.

He couldn’t get the taste of her lips out of his mind. Or the feel of her fingers entwined in his hair. Or her soft gasps and and whimpers as he nuzzled her neck and caressed her breasts—noises she hadn’t been aware she made, but had resonated inside him, fueling his desire.

He wanted to tap the passion buried inside her, passion she likely wasn’t even aware she possessed. Such lovely, sensual curiosity hidden beneath her prim facade. He was amazed other men couldn’t see it as clearly as he could.

Four days had passed since their impulsive intimacy in the morning room. Four maddening therapy sessions in which Nurse Riley had massaged his muscles, stretched his limbs, bathed his skin. Working beside Dr. Michaelson, she’d maintained a perfect professional distance and it had nearly driven him mad.

Though she had avoided his eyes, it had been impossible for them to avoid physical contact altogether. James had been tortured by the delicate scent of her skin. He’d been mesmerized by the way her hips gently swayed as she moved, by the way her breasts rose and fell, by the rich, throaty tone of her voice. His thoughts focused not on Dr. Michaelson’s description of his treatment, but on imagining what provocative bit of finery his sweet, dutiful nurse wore beneath her gowns.

Every day spent in her company became a sensual ordeal. And every night he went to bed in a painful state of arousal. There existed scores of bordellos in London. James could have sent his footman to any one of those establishments with directions to bring home a partner to slack his lust. He seriously considered it.

The problem was, he wanted more than pure sexual release. Lust was a sloppy word, altogether too coarse and indiscriminate, like a clumsy shotgun that scattered pellets helter-skelter at whoever had the misfortune to cross its path. James’s need was rapier sharp. His desire was pinpointed, targeted on one particular sight.

Katherine Riley.

Rather than bed a poor imitation, he went to sleep alone and fantasized of taking Kate. He imagined thrusting his throbbing cock through the shadowy cleft of her cleavage. He imagined running his hands all over her luscious body. Resting the ripe plum tip of his penis on her lower lip. Burying his face in her breasts. Between her thighs.

He dreamed of sucking her nipples until they grew as tight and hard as shimmering pink marbles. Kissing her belly, her sex. Probing her slick channel with his fingers, then his tongue. Watching her writhe and moan as she reached orgasm. Driving into her tight, hot sheath over and over until he came with an explosive force.

Then, alone in his bed as his fantasies peaked, he would stroke his shaft until he came in earnest. That was his only means of temporarily purging from his mind the lewd visions of his proper little nurse. But his satisfaction had an edge. His physical release wasn’t complete. Not without her.

It was all too depraved and embarrassing. Everything about the woman brimmed with untapped, untouched, erotic potential. He recalled the powerful effect it had had on him when she’d moistened her lips, closed her eyes, and tilted back her head to offer him a kiss. He harbored no doubt at all that she was a complete innocent.

James was not a man naturally drawn to virgins. In fact, just the opposite was true. He preferred a bedmate fully schooled in the art of sexual pleasure. But Kate was different. Kate he wanted to personally teach. He wanted to—

“James!” Vanessa’s shrill voice carried across the room, interrupting his thoughts.

He turned. Bad form, that—fantasizing about one woman while in the room with another. Schooling his features into what he hoped was an approximation of polite interest, he said, “Yes, Vanessa?”

“What on earth are you looking at? You’ve been staring out that window nearly the entire time I’ve been speaking.”

He gave a loose shrug. “Dr. Michaelson and his nurse are due any moment. I sent my carriage to the hospital over an hour ago. The rain must have delayed them.”

She glanced at his ankle, then quickly looked away. For a moment, he almost felt a twinge of pity for her. She had expected James to return a war hero, not a cripple who would only be a burden. Tiny lines of tension settled near the corners of her mouth. “You think this physician will be able to help you?”