Second Chances; A Regency Story (For Anna)

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"I have work to oversee on the London house," Alasdair said. "I admit it should have been done some time ago, but now it will be done and all will be complete before next year." There were so many repairs to be done and for three years he'd refused to leave the safety of Hardt Manor. Minor repairs had become moderate and some rooms were all but unusable. He'd had no choice if the house was to be up to snuff for receiving guests before Cara's coming out. And he hadn't been able to bear leaving the children behind.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle was happy to hear that Mr. Blackwood was to remain in town for some time. Although she tried to tell herself it didn't matter either way, she truly liked his company and was excited at the prospect of future opportunities to enjoy his presence. She'd hoped to discover if he had any plans to mix with society more than he had in the park today but that information had not been divulged. She was about to continue the conversation when a gust of wind came up and her bonnet began tumbling across the green field.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair pushed to his feet immediately, declaring his intent to rescue her wayward bonnet in a few words as he stepped past Miss Hennessy. He trotted at first, his long legs making a quick path across the grass. The bonnet and another strong breeze toyed with him, and he broke into a brief run, legs eating up the distance effortlessly.

At last he caught up the wayward article, and his triumphant smile as he turned back to its owner was nothing short of boyish, easy and unselfconscious. His clothes were a bit rumpled for the effort, and tendrils of black hair had come loose from the leather thong at the nape of his neck, but his appearance was last on his mind as he made his way back in long, loping strides. The activity had gotten his blood running and he was simply enjoying the sensation.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle had tried to jump to her feet to run after her bonnet as well. By the time she managed to stand from her relined position without getting tangled in her skirts Mr. Blackwood had already taken off after it. As she watched, he snatched up the article and started back to her, standing, waiting with an expression of amusement. She couldn't help taking him in as he closed the distance between them, the slightly tousled look only adding to his appeal. When he stepped in front of her, she went to take the bonnet with both hands. On of her palms brushed against his hand and she looked up at him, unable to hide the tension of desire that had been building all day. She managed to speak the words that had already formed on her tongue. "Th-thank you, Mr. Blackwood."

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

A frisson of sensation tore through Alasdair's veins, moving his blood even faster at that light touch. His breath had caught and though he knew that he stood too close, that he should release her bonnet and step back, it was impossible to do so. His limbs were heavy and simply refused to create distance between them when some baser part of him wanted only to close that distance, to do the unforgivable and pull her into his arms. To kiss her senseless.

"Please," he said softly, "Call me Alasdair." There was too much between them just then to hold to such formalities. He couldn't pull his eyes from the deep, drowning brown of hers for some indefinable moments, and even then it was only to drop to her lips, still lightly stained with wine.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

"Alasdair." Annabelle tested the name on her lips, not recognizing her own silky voice that had dropped an octave. She couldn't miss it when his eyes broke the spell he'd held her in and lowered. Self-consciously she moistened her lower lip with a flick of the tip of her tongue. She didn't notice that her heartbeat was racing, or that she had leaned forward a few inches in invitation until her bonnet was now brushing against her belly between them.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Why was it that his name sounded like a prayer on her lips? His imagination had firm control over him and that soft motion of her tongue only sent his impulses spinning wildly out of control. He leaned down, hesitating at the light, feminine scent of her hair in the moment before he released the bonnet. It was a sin to have thoughts such as his, but God help him, he could not resist the firm press of his lips to hers.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle completely forgot about the bonnet, and it slipped through her hands to fall near their feet. Her attention was grasped by the male presence that was suddenly kissing her. Her body responded naturally to his actions. The lids of her eyes fluttered closed and her head tilted up to meet his demands. Her hands rose to lay her palms on the cloth at his chest. She'd forgotten to breathe, when she managed to take a deep breath, her nostrils were filled with his spicy masculine scent.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

It was bliss to kiss her so, and bliss again when his hands slid around her waist of their own accord. Three years he had been alone and years longer since he'd wrapped his arms around the slender form of a woman. His brows drew together in pain bordering on ecstasy, barely-leashed control drawn tightly between them. He pulled her closer, he couldn't help it, and his lips parted gently, asking when he wanted to demand.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle's body felt like it would burst into flames at his touch. She'd secluded herself away for so long and had all but forgotten what it felt like to be held in a man's arms. Part of her mind was telling her to pull away, to keep as much distance between them for her own sanity. Her fingers grasped at his waistcoat, indecisive if she should push away or draw him closer. Anna ignored such thoughts and let her body react to him on her own accord. At the questing movement of his lips Anna parted her own, deepening the exchange as her tongue brushed against his soft flesh in welcome.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

A small shudder wracked Alasdair's frame in the moment before he broke, sweeping into her mouth. She was so soft, tasted so sweet, felt so desperate, so pliant in his arms that he nearly lost his mind. His large hands firmed against her, holding her tighter still until the urge to pull her to the rug beneath them was nearly overpowering. He needed the sweep of his hand up her spine to soothe the need he couldn't allow himself to satisfy.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle shivered at the sensations that were engulfing her. Her fingers eased their hold and her palms slid up the expanse of his chest until they wrapped around the base of his neck for support. Anna shuffled a step into him, her dress brushing against his well tailored outfit. Her head tilted as he claimed her her mouth. She wasn't passive, and join in the heated exchange. All thought of resistance had faded from her mind with Alasdair's attentions.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

There was no explanation for the irrepressible lust spreading through Alasdair's blood. He felt like a desperate youth with his first taste of desire, but there was no fumbling, only the waking of physical memory and instinct. He ravaged her mouth, struggling to keep hold of the bit of himself he still held back, to keep his hands from curving against her. His knees were weak with the desire to press her back into the rug and satisfy this long-repressed need.

But he couldn't. The shadows of his mind whispered to him that this was wrong, unforgivable, traitorous! He broke the kiss as gently and as quickly as he could, catching hold of Miss Hennessy's waist again as though he were holding her back instead of himself. The black ribbon on his arm burned with the pulse of his blood as he whispered worthless apologies, for taking advantage of her, for losing control, for being unable to go on. "I can't." His soul would not allow it.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle's mind tried to wrestle free of the fog of desire that had ensnared her. Her breath was ragged, her heart pounding. Her deep brown eyes peeked out from behind her long lashes, studying the unidentifiable emotions swimming in Alasdair's. She'd taken his soft spoken declaration to mean he couldn't hold himself to being a gentleman if they didn't stop. She was grateful, not wanting to so rapidly push the bounds of propriety to fully discover whatever this was between them.

The kiss had seemed inevitable; the tension between them had been growing at each touch. Likewise, all good kisses must come to an end. As much as she hadn't wanted it to end, she'd known that one of them would have ended it eventually. She was glad he'd been able to as her wits hadn't been functioning enough to do so herself. She reached up on her toes to close the small breath of space he'd created between their lips. With a soft, lingering kiss she replied without words. Thank you, I hold no regrets.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Such exquisite pain taunted Alasdair in that kiss. He wanted it again, and it was all he could do to pull back at the end, to straighten and remove his hands from the temptation of her body. Somehow he parted from her, retrieving her lost bonnet once more from where it had lodged against the forgotten picnic basket.

The walk to his curricle was silent, but not uncomfortable despite his heavy thoughts. It was contemplative, and that forbidden pleasure still hummed through his veins, satisfied for the moment. The ride was much the same, comfortable silences interspersed with light, easy conversation. Alasdair helped her to the cobbles before her London home with polite grace that felt intimate all the same, and his parting kiss to the back of her hand nearly left him reeling. He didn't look back as he took his seat again, flicking his horses into motion to leave.