Chapter Eight #2
Peyton was completely calm by the time he finished, gazing at him openly and without hostilities.
He met her eyes and smiled weakly. “I suppose what I am trying to say, although not entirely adequately, is that I overreacted to your statement simply because I have grown accustomed to women describing Ali as a savage. And I was angry with you for deceiving me into believing that you could mayhap learn to see him as I do. I saw hope in your manner, in your actions. I wanted to believe it was possible.”
She crossed her arms thoughtfully. “Alec, I will admit that his skin color shocked me at first; it was difficult not to react to his darkness in a land full of white-skinned people. But I have been witness to his intelligence, I have learned to trust my sister’s opinion of him, and I have discovered that there is indeed an intelligent man beneath the ebony skin.
Certainly there is a wide collection of men I would refer to as savages, but Ali is not among them. ”
“I realize that now,” his voice was a whisper. “But I reacted to you as I have so wanted to react all of these years to every woman who has ever seen Ali as though he were some sort of monstrosity. But I knew deep in my heart that you are not like them in the least.”
“But you have grown used to them and, therefore, reacted accordingly and assumed I was of the same shallow traits,” she supplied quietly. “I have already admitted that I did share some of those qualities. But I would like to think that I can overcome them.”
He nodded, meeting her gaze with a look of sincere remorse. “I called you a bitch, Peyton, and I am deeply sorry. The term is the very farthest from the truth.”
She continued to gaze at him a moment, feeling a deep sense of understanding for his earlier actions. In truth, she hadn’t been the target; it had been all of the women she represented. Above all of the terror and confusion his rage represented, she deeply admired Alec his devotion to his friend.
“You are so wrong,” she said softly. “I can indeed be a bitch when the mood strikes me. Ask Ivy.”
His weak smile returned more genuine than before. “I choose to disbelieve you. You are stubborn, aggressive and willful, but you are not a bitch.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Stubborn, aggressive and willful? And, pray, what else? I had no idea you thought so highly of me, Sir Alec.”
He could feel relief flooding him at the beginnings of the raillery they seemed to share.
He was nearly weak with hope that mayhap she was willing to forgive him and grateful to realize that she was not only beautiful, she was rational and perceptive as well.
Only a good deal of understanding and intelligence would have been able to comprehend what he had attempted to explain in his own defense.
“I do indeed think highly of you, my lady,” he said softly. “Much more than you know.”
She smiled faintly, feeling terribly relieved that she understood his reasons for his rage but now terribly concerned that he was leaving. She again indicated his clothing.
“Tell me where you are going.”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully and she found herself staring at his delightfully smooth, masculine lips. Lips that made her feel more wonderful than she had ever dreamt possible.
“There is a bit of a problem that concerns us both, my lady. After my display this afternoon, my father is intent on dissolving our marriage contract.”
Peyton’s face went slack with shock. “He is? Why on earth?”
“Because he fears for your safety. You see, my lady, there has never been a man or woman who could provoke me beyond reason, which is exactly what happened this afternoon. My father fears that eventually I will harm you in some way if you indeed possess the power to bait me senseless.”
She stared at him, her sapphire blue eyes endless. “You would never harm me, would you?”
His face washed with indescribable softness. “Of course not. I would kill for you, or die for you, but I would never touch a hair on your beautiful head in anger.”
She cocked her head, her brow creased with puzzlement. “You would die for me?”
“Without hesitation.”
“But why?”
He smiled gently. “Why not? You are worth dying for.”
She appeared genuinely stunned, averting her gaze. “James never even declared such devotion,” she murmured, more to herself.
Alec heard her but he did not respond. Suddenly, a seed of jealousy formed deep within his heart at the mention of her former love and he was shocked.
He wasn’t envious of a dead man, but he realized that he wanted Peyton to speak of him with the same adoration.
It wasn’t so much the words as in the tone, and the more he thought on it, the more he became aware of how very much he wanted Peyton to speak of him as fondly.
“Father plans to betroth you to Colin Warrington in the hope that a marriage will ease tensions between your respective families.”
Peyton’s eyes bugged wide and her creamy cheeks flushed brightly. “Colin Warrington! Never! I would sooner kill myself than wed that ill-mannered dog!”
“Then I take it that in spite of my tantrum, you would rather marry me?”
“I would marry the Devil himself before marrying Colin Warrington!”
He gave her a quirky smile. “I am afraid the Devil already has a wife. Will I suffice?”
She eyed him a moment. “If you promise never to rage again in my presence, I shall consider it.”
He lost all of his mirth and dropped on bended knee before her. It was a swift, graceful motion that startled her; before she realized it, Alec was kneeling beautifully and her right hand was neatly tucked into the fold of his closed palm.
“With God as my witness, I swear to you that I shall never again display such appalling manners. I may lose my temper and I cannot promise that I will never again speak a harsh word, but I vow this day that I shall never again rage against you.”
She was astonished at the passion of his statement. She felt her guard lowering and it was further melted by the candor of his demonstration. This was the Alec she had come to know, the gentle giant with a heart deeper than a well. A soft smile creased her beautiful lips.
“I believe you, my Alec,” she whispered. “Aye, I would marry you over Colin Warrington. And the Devil.”
He brought her hand to his lips and excitement jolted her so that she involuntarily gasped.
Her left hand went to his head tenderly as his lips thanked her gently for her compassion.
His kisses covered her hand and moved to her wrist as Peyton continued to gently touch his cropped hair, thinking him to be entirely too handsome and chivalrous for his own good.
Before she realized it, he had pulled her into a snug embrace against his hard chest and she found herself gazing down into his sky-blue eyes as his chin rested on the swell of her breasts.
It was remarkable that they were hovering so close to one another and not giving in to deliciously hot kisses; instead, they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, rejoicing in the fact that all was well between them once again.
“I thought I had destroyed everything we had established between us,” he whispered, his breathing noticeably ragged. “I am so very sorry for what I did, Peyton. I never meant to hurt you.”
“You did not, really,” she answered with equal breathlessness. “But you frightened me. Lord, Alec, you are so massive that you could easily tear me apart were you so inclined.”
He kissed the palms of her hands as they gripped his head, especially the bandaged hand. “I did indeed hurt you as there is the proof. But I never meant to, truly. You are most gracious to forgive me my transgression.”
She smiled giddily, her insides quivering with their close proximity. “This time only. Next time, I shall brandish a mace and aim for your head.”
“And I would stand stock still to better your focus,” he agreed earnestly.
“My aim is true, my lord. I would not need….”
He cut her off with a bruising kiss. She responded with eager whimpers, encouraging him. He licked at her lips and she answered by opening her mouth to him, but he suddenly stopped.
“I would hear you call me by my name, always,” he whispered, his hot breath on her face driving her weak for the want of him. “Say it.”
“Alec,” she breathed.
He kissed her fiercely, his tongue delving into the sweet depths of her mouth before withdrawing sharply. “Not that way. The way you said it before. Possessively.”
She had no idea what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”
Again, he slanted his lips over hers harshly, suckling and licking her until she was gasping with desire. “Say it.”
“What?” she demanded with as much force as she could muster in between feverish kisses.
“My Alec. You will address me as your own.”
“My…?” she began, but he quelled her inquiry with kisses forceful enough to turn her body to jelly; her knees had long since given out and he fully supported her against him.
“Say it.”
She grinned at him, a wonderful sort of gesture that made him respond in kind. “My Alec. My darling Alec.”
She beat him to the kiss this time, planting her delightfully supple lips onto his eager mouth. His gloved hands entwined themselves in her hair and they lost their balance, toppling over onto a large pile of fresh straw.
The stable was deserted and quiet, as the servants were eating their evening meal.
In the darkened corner of the livery, Alec rolled Peyton on to her back and continued to ravish her thoroughly.
She gasped with the new passion he had so quickly aroused in her on the very first day they had met, clutching him tightly as his mouth drove her insane with desire.