fingers.
Alexander’s gaze moved down sharply, feeling the bareness of Angelina’s flesh against his hand, desire coursing fiercely through him and causing his already hard and pulsing erection to throb anew as he looked at the fullness of her exposed breast with its tight rosy nipple. Momentary madness came over him as he started bending his head to take that luscious bud into his mouth—
Dear God …!
Alexander pulled back abruptly, jaw clenched as he straightened Angelina’s gown determinedly, before pushing her firmly away from him.
He ignored her seductive pout this time, to rise sharply to his feet, and moved purposefully away from the bedside, hands clasped firmly behind his back as he took several deep, controlling breaths before he dared face her again. “I have no idea where you … That sort of behavior is totally unacceptable, Angelina!” he finally rasped in his most disapproving tone.
Disapproval for himself, as much as for her.
He may never have set eyes on this girl before tonight, may have ignored her very existence these past three years except to pay her school fees, but Benjamin Hawkins had nevertheless placed her under Alexander’s protection. He doubted that his friend had ever envisaged that it was Alexander himself Angelina might need protection from!
“How is my behavior inappropriate?” Angelina gave Alexander a quizzical stare as she sat up to swing her feet down onto the rug beside the bed. “I am sure we will touch each other much more intimately than that once I become your mistress.”
“Once you are become my what?” Alexander glowered down at her in shocked disbelief.
“Your mistress, Alexander.” Angelina smiled. “I assure you I have applied myself most diligently to my lessons these past three years whilst a pupil at Miss Bristow’s school.”
At last, Alexander knew where he had heard the name before!
At the time of Benjamin Hawkins’s death, Alexander’s own father had also recently died, and Alexander had found his time much occupied with his newly elevated status as Duke of Stourbridge.
Even so, it had been remiss of him not to have at least visited Angelina after the death of her parents. Perhaps if he had done so he would have realized that she was not a child at all, but a young lady of fifteen or sixteen years! As it was, he had left all the arrangements for Angelina Hawkins’s schooling to his man Hopkins. Something the elderly man had later happily assured Alexander he had done by placing her in what he believed was a “suitable” school in Brighton.
But suitable for what?
CHAPTER THREE
ANGELINA STOOD UP from the bed, an apologetic look on her face. “I had thought to surprise you by arriving so unexpectedly, but I see now that I should have remained patient and waited for you to come for me.” She reached up to touch the hardness of his clenched jaw. “Do say you are not cross with me, Alexander.”
A nerve pulsed where her fingers had just touched. “I am not cross with you—”
“You are everything that is good and kind!” She beamed up at him warmly.
Good or kind were not descriptions Alexander—or, indeed, anyone else!—was accustomed to hearing in connection to himself.
That Angelina thought him to be so was most unsettling.
Alexander gritted his teeth. “What I am is most displeased with the—the teachings of Miss Bristow!”
Angelina frowned her dismay. “Did I not kiss you properly, Alexander? Were my caresses not to your liking?”
“Of course they were to my liking,” he snapped impatiently. “That is not at all my point—”
“I am so glad that I pleased you, Alexander.” Angelina gave a delighted laugh. “Indeed, Miss Bristow considered me so able a pupil that I have spent the year since reaching my eighteenth birthday instructing the other girls rather than being one of their number!”
After this recent example of Angelina’s capabilities Alexander could well believe it!
He was a man of nine and twenty years, experienced in the many ways of lovemaking. But Angelina Hawkins, with her warmth and lack of all inhibition, let alone guile, had awakened a desire in him unlike any he had ever known before.
Or, indeed, should be feeling now!
“These lessons you mentioned …” He paused, searching for the correct—the most discreet!—way of posing his next question. “Were they only of a theoretical nature, or did practice enter into these—these teachings …?”
“Oh, they were purely theoretical,” Angelina assured him lightly. “Miss Bristow was at great pains to point out to all of us that one’s virginity was a precious gift to be given only to one’s intended protector.”
Dear God …!
This woman, at nineteen years of age, with all the theoretical knowledge of lovemaking, if not the practice, spoke and behaved with a candidness that was becoming more and more difficult for him—for any man!—to resist.
“I believe I shall very much enjoy living here with you, Alexander.” Angelina seemed unaware of his erratically brooding thoughts as she looked appreciatively at the elegant furnishings of the bedchamber.
Angelina live here with him? At St. Claire House? Impossible!
“That would be most unsuitable, Angelina,” he answered her, with an increasing impatience for this situation. “It is far too late for me to arrange for you to go elsewhere tonight, but you must leave here first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Why must I?” She frowned her disappointment.
What was to be done with this young woman? Alexander wondered with frustration. The school in Brighton—School? It sounded more like a bordello, with Miss Bristow as its patroness!—had obviously educated Angelina in a way that was most unsuitable for marriage to the parson Alexander had vaguely envisaged arranging for Hawkins’s daughter once she reached maturity!
A brothel was what Angelina was most educated for!
And how long after being forced to resort to such an occupation, Alexander wondered, would it take for Angelina to lose her infectious candidness and beguiling warmth of affection? Before she became jaded and hardened by the lack of love and warmth in such relationships?
Perhaps he could provide her with a dowry so that she might marry within society—
No, that would not do, either. Any man of means who might be persuaded into marrying Angelina would necessarily have to be told of her background. Besides, there was Angelina’s undeniable knowledge—even if that knowledge was not of a practical nature—of all things sensual …!
His mouth thinned as he answered Angelina’s question as to why she couldn’t stay. “There is no woman in residence here to act as your chaperone.”
“Why should I need a chaperone, Xander, when I am to be your mistress?” Angel reached up to once again smooth the frown from his brow. “Please do not scowl so,
