Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Let us see just how radical you truly are.” Alice gave Marco a cheeky glance as she set her boots aside.
Marco struggled to keep his gaze from being drawn to the beautiful form of her trim ankles in their white stockings as she walked to the water's edge.
He felt as if he had been turned to stone as she stepped between the reeds, unable to move or think as water seeped up the hem of her gown.
He couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful she was, like a water nymph.
Or perhaps a mermaid from the sea, come to bewitch him into the depths.
He'd been enchanted, hadn't he? How else could he account for feelings of not only desire but also possessiveness for this lady he barely knew?
And she was the enemy's daughter, no less.
He had gone insane. Yet here he was, staring at the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, the daughter of a duke, strolling into a lake fully clothed.
Marco finally came to himself and started forward as the water rose over her knees and she stumbled slightly.
“Alice, you cannot...”
“I already have,” Alice laughed, stretching her arms wide.
“Indeed you have,” Marco smiled and swallowed.
The water made her heavy dress cling to her legs.
She was undeniably beautiful of face, but now that he could see her body's outline, he realized that her form was also perfect.
He tried not to think about what that body would look like without a stitch of clothing.
“You realize this is highly inappropriate for a lady, do you not?”
“It is a good thing I am not a lady then,” she giggled, pushing her hair away from her face.
Without her hat and pins, it was loose and flowing around her shoulders, and Marco longed to run his fingers through the curls to see if they were as soft as they appeared.
“But it seems that I have thoroughly scandalized you.”
“Not terribly so,” Marco said, pulling off his jacket and dropping it on the grass on top of her boots. He looked to the sky, which had darkened considerably during their banter, but shrugged and moved forward. “After all, two can play this game.”
“Oh really, Mr. Alegria?” Alice chuckled, dipping her fingertips into the water. “It seems you are full of surprises.”
“We appear to have that in common,” Marco said, moving to step into the water, the soles of his boots unsteady in the mud.
“Do be careful!” Alice called. “The ground is quite slippery!”
“I shall take care,” Marco called back, but just as he spoke, the first fat drops of rain fell suddenly from the sky, followed by a tremendous crack of thunder. Alice, who had not noted the change in the weather, started and lost her footing.
“Oh, goodness!” Alice cried out just before she stumbled and went entirely under the water. Marco’s heart leaped into his throat. She may be able to swim, but he feared her skirts would weigh her down.
“Alice!” he shouted, throwing himself into the water, quickly stumbling to where she had been standing. He was overwhelmed with relief when her head emerged from the water. Her hair plastered against her face as she spluttered. “Come towards me!”
Alice struggled to regain her balance, and Marco pushed himself further out into the lake, fighting against the weeds and mud until he was within reach of her.
“Take my hand,” Marco called over the sound of the driving rain, stretching his fingers out towards her.
Alice gasped, and her fingers finally brushed against his.
Marco gripped them, drawing her hand closer, pulling on her arm like a rope until he was close enough to put his arm around her and pull her upright.
She was gasping for breath and coughing, her hands holding his tightly as if holding on for dear life.
“Let me assist you,” Marco said, helping her step back to the bank.
“I am quite well and can make it on my own,” Alice said but coughed brutally, and Marco worried that she had swallowed too much water.
“I am sure you could, but your gown has grown heavy, and it is difficult to see in this deluge. I shall not have you drown in my lake, Alice,” he said sternly, pulling her with him through the water.
“I can see your point,” Alice gasped. Her skirts felt like lead weights and lifting her legs against them was difficult.
They stumbled onto the bank, and Marco quickly guided her under the shelter of the giant oak tree, under which the horses had wisely chosen to stand.
Alice stumbled away from him. She pressed a hand against the tree trunk for a second before turning around and leaning back against it.
She laughed as she pushed her sodden hair away from her face.
“Well, that was more exciting than I was anticipating.” She laughed heartily.
Marco noticed that the hem of her skirt had ridden up and clung to her body, revealing her legs almost to the knee.
He couldn’t help but step forward. He reached out and tugged her dress down, trying not to admire the shape of her calves as he did so.
She watched him quietly but said nothing.
“Are you well?” he asked. He examined her and saw she was smiling, her hands pressed back against the tree trunk. She shrugged gently as he rose up to smile back at her.
“Of course. I have been in more dire circumstances than a sudden storm,” she said lightly, her eyes full of flirtatious laughter.
“Indeed?” Marco said, pressing his hand against the tree beside her head. He could not stop himself from leaning closer, knowing that it would be a terrible risk with any other lady, but with Alice, he felt sure and safe.
“I shall have to tell you the story of how the cook sent me to the village for extra sugar, and I was caught in a snowstorm on the way home,” Alice giggled.
She didn’t even seem to notice when his body leaned closer to hers.
“I thought I would end up frozen in a ditch and not be found until spring!”
He had forgotten for a moment that she had not been raised as a lady. She had such poise that it almost seemed impossible she started life with humble beginnings.
“Is that worse than drowning?” He joked. Alice smiled and pushed a stubborn strand of damp hair away from her face, but it only slipped forward again.
“You would never have allowed me to drown, Marco,” she said lightly. “It would have been far too ungentlemanly.”
Ungentlemanly, indeed. He was having deliciously ungentlemanly thoughts about her at that very moment.
“I am the paragon of gentlemanly virtue,” he said, placing his free hand on the other side of her head, effectively caging her against the tree as the storm raged around them.
She wasn’t disturbed by his boldness. She just looked up at him, cocking her head to one side in such an inquisitive, coquettish way that he couldn’t help leaning forward even more.
He smelled her soft jasmine perfume mixed with fresh water. It was a tantalizing scent.
“You have been nothing but gentlemanly so far,” she whispered, unconsciously licking her lips, and drawing his attention to their plump shape. He knew that he could no longer deny his desire. Nothing on earth would stop him from tasting that rosy flesh.
“And could you forgive me if I acted less than gentlemanly for just a moment?” Marco asked, his voice growing deep with longing. He reached out and tangled an unruly tendril of damp hair around his finger, tugging on it gently.
“I think I would perhaps welcome it right now,” she whispered. Alice’s eyes were full of a heady need, and Marco felt desire stretching through his limbs as he brushed his nose against hers, feeling her breath warm and sweet on his lips. “For I am decidedly cold, and you are so very warm.”
“I feel as if I am burning.”
Before he could change his mind, he tilted his head and kissed her, surprised when she parted her lips slightly and kissed him back.
She skated her hands up his chest and threaded them into the hair at the nape of his neck without any hesitancy.
Her confidence spurred him on, and he deepened the kiss.
He groaned as he felt her tongue tentatively stroke his and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his body at the same time he pushed her back against the tree.
His knee moved slightly between her thighs, causing her to gasp.
"Have I warmed you enough yet?" he asked, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes.
“Perhaps,” she sighed, pressing her face against his neck, her quickened breath sending shivers down his spine. “I am most grateful to you, sir.”
“Should I warm you further?” Marco whispered, his voice hoarse. He would instantly stop if she asked him to, but he prayed she would not.
“I would be most upset if you did not,” Alice whispered back, and Marco leaned down and cupped her face in his hands before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.
She tasted like honey and sin. Marco did everything he could to rein himself in before he bore her to the ground and took her virginity before the lake as the rain pounded around them.
He allowed himself one more moment of indulgence before pulling away from her, suppressing a howl of frustration that he needed to do so.
“You are shivering,” he whispered, tracing his thumbs down her pale cheeks. She was indeed trembling, and he could not tell if it was from arousal or her cold, wet clothes. He hoped it was the former but worried it was not.
“I shall be well enough when the sun returns, and I have dried out a bit,” Alice said, but her teeth were beginning to chatter, and Marco suddenly feared that she would catch a chill.
“It would not be sensible to wait for the sun,” Marco said, reluctantly pulling away and looking out at the rain. It seemed to be a little less insistent than before, but he did not anticipate it ending soon. “Do you think you could bear a quick ride in the rain? Where I mean to go is not far.”