THE DUKE’S MATCH GIRL: A Christmas Fiery Tale Novella (Fiery Tales Series) Page 6

  “I should think my waiting for you for the last two days would prove that this isn’t a game. I am quite serious,” he said. “And I’m not giving up.”

  “This is indeed a game. We’ve played many games as children, and you have never liked to lose. You came here thinking you could use your polished manner and good looks, and I would give myself to you, as I did before. Yet, now you find yourself too entrenched in your charade, not willing to lose face—or retreat—and that is why you are still waiting outside. The more difficult the catch, the sweeter the prize, no? At least admit the truth.”

  It was true. He did hate to lose. And he’d lived with the staggering loss of her for too long. He wished he could tell her so and actually have her believe him.

  Leo rested his hands on his hips to keep from reaching out and touching her. She was so skittish, he had no doubt she’d bolt if he tried.

  A single silky curl tickled her cheek in the breeze. How he wanted to gently brush it behind her ear and pull her against him—more than he wanted his next breath.

  “All right. Here are some plain truths. If all I wanted was sex, Suzanne, there’s no need to sit outside your shop to wait for it. Or to come here at all. There has never been a short supply of willing women at court.” He wasn’t going to even remotely pretend he’d led the life of a celibate monk. As Constance basked in the glow of her affair, he’d delved into drink and debauchery.

  Extensively.

  “I would not be out here and risk freezing that part of my ‘male anatomy I’m rather fond of,’” he said, repeating her earlier words, “if this was nothing more than bed sport. As for worrying about losing face, I’m no longer a child, playing childish games. With a childish mind. If I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought when I’d been cuckolded by my wife, why would I suddenly be concerned about ‘losing face’? And since we are finally talking, here are some more truths: I had a duty to my family I could not shirk seven years ago. The marriage contract had been signed by both families weeks prior to our night together. And I knew it. I was well aware that as heir, I was going to have to marry a woman I barely remembered meeting, for the sake of the d’Ermarts’ political gain and advancement of power,” he said, practically sneering.

  His familial obligations soured his insides and left a bitter taste in his mouth. He’d grown to despise his birthright long ago. His “privileged” birth had come at a vast personal cost. He’d been told throughout his life that as a d’Ermart, he could have anything he wanted.

  A bloody lie.

  What he’d wanted all along was the woman before him with the smudged shoes. And lucky cloak. “And yes, I purposely withheld the betrothal from you. I fought within myself, vacillating between staying away from you. Or acting on the carnal cravings we both harbored for each other. Finally, I chose the latter—when I had no right to—for one simple reason.”

  “Oh? And what was that?”

  “I simply couldn’t live a lifetime never knowing what it was like to make love to you.”

  That took her by surprise.

  Her eyes widened, and he could have sworn there was a slight softening before she rapidly retreated back behind her defenses. Merde. Witnessing her apprehension to trust him yet again staggered him. This wasn’t getting any easier to see. Not when they’d had the tightest bond once. Not when he’d been so accustomed to a very different Suzanne.

  One who had the world of faith in him.

  And he had no one to blame for her mistrust but himself and the horrible way he’d handled everything years ago.

  “I miss the Suzanne who took chances and risks and did everything with great passion and zeal. Fearlessly. Take a chance today. Come home with me. Let us see what might be between us again. I was once the only person you allowed yourself to be truly open and vulnerable with,” he reminded her softly. “Will you let me past the pain I caused? Lower those tall walls you have insulated yourself behind. Let me see that woman again. I know she is in there, waiting to be cherished. Allow me to be the one to cherish her. I know there is pain deep inside her. And grief. Let me help heal it. There is no one who knows her heart, body, and mind better than I do.”

  Briefly, Leo pressed a gentle finger over her heart. “Let me see inside here again,” he whispered.

  She looked away, then raised a hand and lightly tugged at her earlobe. There it was. That adorable odd little habit she had when she was deep in thought. His heart pounded away the moments. The mere fact that she was even contemplating his words was monumental.

  When she met his gaze again, her beautiful brown almond-shaped eyes shone with heart-sinking distrust. She shook her head. “I have already lost one home because of you. I’m here to sell my matchsticks to ensure I won’t lose another after you leave.”

  “I’m not going to leave.”

  “That’s what you said the last time. Quite convincingly, I might add, just before I gave myself to you. And as I recall, shortly afterward you also said I was a good tumble, and that I was never meant to be more.”

  Fuck.

  “I meant none of the things I said to you the day we parted. I admit I was a colossal ass. I thought if I made you hate me, it would make our parting easier for you. It would spare you pain afterwards.”

  “Well, it seems you failed on both counts. I didn’t feel hate. And I did feel pain. At least we agree on the ass part.”

  She turned on her heel to leave. Leo caught her hand and, in one fluid motion, yanked her into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes, and pressed her back against the wall.

  She gasped.

  “What… What are you doing?” She couldn’t have sounded more surprised. There was a slight panic in her voice.

  He braced his palms against the wall on either side of her shoulders. “Since you won’t allow me a moment alone with you, I’m seizing one.”

  Her gaze shot out to the street. “What if someone sees us? What are they going to say? You’ve made enough of a spectacle—”

  “They’re not going to say a damned thing. I’ve ordered Gilles to make it clear to all the curious onlookers that the House of d’Ermart holds you and your father in the highest esteem and that we would consider it a gross personal insult for anyone to conduct themselves to the contrary toward you.”

  She squirmed anxiously. “Why are we here? You aren’t going to kiss me, are you? You…you said you wouldn’t kiss me again unless we were at Montbrison. Lying again, were you?”

  Her nervous excitement was palpable.

  So was that delicious fire that was smoldering between them. She wasn’t fooling him. He knew that there was at least a part of her that wanted to be kissed, and it was unsettling her. His dark-haired beauty was using the taunt as a way to stave off the carnal intensity they both knew would spike on intimate contact.

  “I promised I’d be honest with you. No lies,” he assured her, though at the moment he wished he hadn’t made the pledge not to kiss her unless at Montbrison. “Here is another truth. I know I hurt you deeply. It grieves me, more than you could ever know. And I am truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused.” Leo slipped his fingers under her chin, bringing her mouth a fraction closer. Jésus-Christ, he wanted to slowly savor those luscious lips. “But I can’t say that I’m sorry for our night together. That would be a lie. I count our night as one of the most incredible nights of my life.”

  Suzanne’s heart raced.

  She was in trouble.

  Very big trouble.

  His words were starting to have an effect on her. His apology had been completely unexpected, and it inspired a familiar emotional stirring. One that terrified her to the marrow.

  If that weren’t bad enough, the heat from his fingers was seeping through her system and pooling in her belly. She had the maddening urge to grab his ears and yank him to her. Anything that would give her a taste of his tempting mouth. And garner her physical contact with his hard-muscled form.

  So, you crave to feel some real bliss…like the decadent pleas
ures Leo introduced you to.

  But she wanted more than that. Beyond the physical. She wanted love. Real, unconditional love from a man whose affections would not be capricious. A love that was deep, unwavering, steadfast. A husband whose arms would comfort and strengthen her. A connection with honesty and respect that couldn’t be broken. No matter what.

  Just as her father had described he’d had with her mother.

  You can’t weaken now. This man is high nobility. A celebrated libertine with a trail of broken hearts left in his wake wherever he goes. And you are far beneath his station of birth.

  Nothing good could come of this for you…

  “As for the kissing, you do need to be kissed, Suzanne. Long and hard,” he continued, his thumb lightly grazing her bottom lip with titillating effect. Her nipples tightened. “And at Montbrison, I intend to kiss you from your pretty mouth…all the way down to that delectable little bud between your legs.” At the mention of that part of her anatomy, a hot pulse quivered through her core. Her knees almost buckled.

  “But not until you beg for it,” he whispered with a smile. Releasing her face, he pressed his hands against the stone wall again and tilted his head, keeping his mouth tantalizingly close. No doubt to escalate her hunger.

  And, damn it, it was thoroughly working on her starved senses.

  “Do you remember it, Suzanne? Do you remember how much you loved having your pretty pink clit in my mouth? I know how to build the pleasure…until you couldn’t take it anymore. I know how to make you come so very hard…” Dear God. The ache between her legs that was growing fiercer with every soft, seductive word he spoke.

  “We were once compatible in every way. Do you ever allow yourself to remember how good it was between us?” he asked. “Do you recall all the laughter and confidences we shared? The affinity was as potent as the carnal connection we had. Do you remember it?”

  “I’ve done everything in my power to forget it. All of it,” she said, hoping she sounded firm despite the chaos inside her.

  She had to put an end to this, for the sake of her sanity. He was eliciting physical and emotional responses she wanted to quell.

  Shoving a hand against his chest, she managed to move him back a bit. Ignoring the heat of his body against her palm. “What about you, Your Grace?” she countered, intent on turning the tables on him and hopefully quashing this conversation completely. “Since you’ve declared yourself to be an ‘honest man’ now, just how many times have you remembered any of it? How many times have I entered your thoughts in the past seven years?”

  “You want the absolute truth?”

  “Yes, the absolute truth.” She found herself suddenly braced for his response, and she had no idea why.

  “Once,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  Disappointment lanced through her. And she mentally chastised herself for it. It shouldn’t matter what his response was.

  He cupped her cheek with one hand. “You entered my thoughts only once, immediately after your departure from Montbrison, and you haven’t left my mind since.”

  That sent a wild flutter in her stomach. “Oh…”

  Will you stop saying, “Oh.” Not exactly your most brilliant response.

  Dare you believe him?

  He’d been back in her life for only a few days and he was already overwhelming her mind and body. She had to get away. She needed time to think. To catch her breath. And collect herself.

  “I have to go,” she said, hoping her voice sounded firm. Yet, her feet seemed stuck.

  “Would you like to know what else I’m thinking?” His thumb stroked her cheek, the sensation streaking down to the tips of her breasts. She couldn’t suppress her shiver.

  She pushed his hand away from her face, having difficulty concentrating when he touched her like that. “I’m certain it is scandalous in nature.”

  He chuckled. “Besides that. I’m thinking that part of you wants to come with me to Montbrison.”

  “No, I do not.” She felt the immediate twinge, her heart objecting to her words. Late last night, she’d pictured herself back in Montbrison, a place that had been the happiest home she’d ever known. In her mind’s eye, it was a beautiful Christmas, just as they used to be, surrounded by people who’d cared about her, like dear Elisabeth and Aurore.

  But then there was Leo.

  He was the obstacle.

  She was too unsure what to make of him. And his words. Any of this.

  A big purely male grin formed on his far too handsome face. “I think you do. You just need a little encouragement.”

  With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing around the corner.

  What in the world is that supposed to mean?

  Chapter Five

  CRACKING OPEN AN eye, Suzanne immediately realized she’d overslept.

  Something she’d never done before. The sun was bright and blazing through her window.

  Another warm day, no doubt.

  Another night with little more than two hours of sleep.

  After the evocative encounter with Leo yesterday, she’d tossed and turned, pondering his words. And becoming frustrated with herself for neglecting to ask what his mysterious third reason was for coming to see her.

  It was still ridiculously niggling at her. Adding to the ever-growing list of Leo-related torments that kept her up.

  And then there’s that apology…

  What little repose she’d had was plagued with dreams of Leo. Hot carnal dreams where she’d given him carte blanche with her body.

  Just as she had that night long ago.

  And oh, how he’d utilized his natural carnal talents to bestow the most mind-melting pleasure.

  Those vivid images filled Suzanne’s mind, instantly heating her blood.

  She rolled onto her side and squeezed her knees together, trying to combat the scintillating throbs coming from the bud between her legs. She was hungry for the one man who knew how to feed her famished senses.

  The very man she could never have and hold forever.

  Lucille’s and Rosalie’s elevated voices pierced the quiet, wafting up from her shop to her second-floor bedroom. It was their commotion that had awoken her in the first place.

  And, God only knew the reason, it was only escalating.

  They were being far too loud for her frayed nerves.

  Suzanne groaned and pulled the covers over her head, trying to drown out the noise, wanting the world outside her room to go away. Yesterday had been a dismal failure. Neither the lace merchant nor the blacksmith’s wife had had any money to pay her for their tonics, bringing the number of patients who now owed her payment to an unprecedented seven. And after three hours of trying, she’d sold the total sum of two matchsticks.

  Clearly, her lucky cloak was dead.

  All its wonderful luck had drained out.

  The day Leo arrived.

  What were the chances that he’d left for his grand château and this ordeal was over?

  The door slammed open, startling her. Gaspard, sleeping on the corner of her bed, leapt to the ground with a sharp meow.

  Rosalie was flushed and wringing her hands. “You’ve got to come. Right now.”

  Suzanne sat up, pulling the covers to her chest. “What’s happened?”

  “The entire town is here, and they are demanding to speak to you.”

  “The entire town?” she repeated, skeptical. Rosalie was known to exaggerate from time to time.

  “Yes! THE ENTIRE TOWN! For God’s sake, HURRY!”

  *****

  SUZANNE WASHED AND dressed in wild haste and flew down the stairs, clutching her shawl. She stopped dead in her tracks at the doorway.

  Stunned by the sight before her.

  A throng had descended upon her shop. Dear God, it truly did look as though the entire population of the town was there.

  Lucille, Rosalie, Rolland, and two of Leo’s men had managed to maneuver the crowd into some semblance of a line. A line that wen
t well out the door of her shop, spilling onto the streets.

  The moment they saw her, the mass surged toward her, a roar erupting.

  She jumped back in surprise.

  She caught a word here. And one there. But could make no sense of anything they were shouting.

  “What is happening here?” Her voice barely carried over the chaos.

  “The Duc de Mont-Marly,” was all Lucille shouted in response as she and Rolland were trying to keep the three feisty Alard spinsters back, their red hair a perfect match for their temperament. The three stout middle-aged sisters couldn’t have appeared more determined to get past them.

  “He’s commenced a contest,” Rolland added, then to the three siblings at the front of the line, “Ladies, please. A bit of patience. You’ll each have a turn.”

  A turn for what? “What sort of contest?” Suzanne barely finished her question when Camille Alard, the eldest not to mention the shortest of the Alard sisters, kicked Rolland in the shin. He yelped as she raced around him and grabbed Suzanne’s hands.

  “You should go with the duc to Montbrison because he is very handsome, and he has good teeth. You can always trust a man with good teeth.”

  Suzanne blinked. “Pardon?”

  “Have I convinced you?” Camille asked, her hazel eyes wide, looking ever so hopeful.

  Oh no. He couldn’t have. He didn’t… He wouldn’t enlist the town to — “What in the world are you talking about?” Suzanne posed the question, praying she was wrong in her deduction.

  “The Duc de Mont-Marly has offered ten louis d’or to the individual who convinces you to accompany him to his château and spend the upcoming fête with his family,” Camille explained. “I think you are mad not to go.”

  Dear God, he did! And he’s offering ten gold coins!

  Suzanne’s gaze shot up, taking in the mayhem once more. Normally placid townspeople were clamoring for her, pushing and shoving, trying to get closer. Those who were still outside, trying to get in.

  “Well?” Camille prompted, impatient for her reply.

  “I’m afraid not.” Oh, she was going to kill Leo…