A Hint of Seduction (26 page)

“I know that you are completely innocent, yet you allow me to look at you like this and touch you with no fear or embarrassment.”

She smiled. “Does that confuse you?”

“Yes.”

“How can I be afraid or shameful of something that feels so natural?”

He smiled at her. “I’m glad you are comfortable with me. That pleases me very much, too.”

John dipped his head and took one rosy-tipped nipple into his mouth and suckled.

Catherine gasped with pleasure. The warmth between his legs tightened. She arched her back to give him better access.

John’s manhood grew harder at knowing how wonderful he could make her feel.

He fondled one breast while he gently sucked and kissed the other. He felt her hands play in his hair, down his neck, and over to his ears, pleasuring him as he pleasured her.

Her touch was gentle and eager. He wanted to tell her to go lower to the hardness between his legs and satisfy his need for her, but he was concerned that her caress would put him over the edge.

Catherine’s flesh pebbled beneath his mouth, letting him know that she desired him as much as he wanted her. John moaned softly from the gratification of touching her and from the pain of holding on to his control.

He desperately wanted to take her and make her his here and now and forever.

He had wanted her since he first saw her in the park when she demanded his horse. John wasn’t fooling himself. He had already realized that it was more than just her loveliness that impressed him. She had a strength and determination that attracted him.

John lingered over her breasts, giving them his full
attention. Anticipation made his body ache with a delicious longing. His mind told him to do what was natural and bury himself deep within her. His body responded quickly to his thoughts, urging him to take the lead and teach her everything he knew about loving.

He was hot and so ready for her that he ached. He needed to lay her down on the carriage cushion and make her his.

But that was madness.

She was a lady, not a paid mistress.

How could he find the strength to deny himself when she was so willing?

“I’m trying very hard not to go too far, Catherine, but you make it so difficult. You are the most satisfying woman I have ever touched.”

“And I have never felt as wonderful as I feel here in your arms with you caressing me.”

His arms tightened possessively around her as he looked down at her breasts. His heart and his body didn’t want to let her go, but his mind knew he must.

“Why are you looking at me so intently?”

“I was just thinking how beautiful a pair of pearls would look against your skin.”

“I have pearls that were my mother’s. I’ll wear them for you.”

“No, don’t. Not yet.”

I want to pick out a strand for you.

The purely masculine sensations she created inside him had never been so alive, so compelling. He had never been so caught up by desire for a woman that it mattered who she was. Suddenly it was important who was in his arms.

And he wanted to buy her pearls.

That sobered him. He wanted Catherine. Not just a woman. Miss Catherine Reynolds. Sexual heat covered
him like a blanket of hot coals as he tried to calm his breathing.

Yes, he wanted Catherine but not this way. Not here and not now.

Slowly he relaxed his hold and looked deeply into her eyes.

“I’d like to continue what we’re doing, but I can’t do that to you. I’m going to take you home.”

Her lips relaxed and her lashes fluttered. “You make me feel so delicious that I forget everything but your touch.”

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

He pushed some fallen strands of hair away from her face, and helped her adjust the front of her clothing.

“The last time you kissed me, Victoria noticed my lips were red and swollen,” she said as she put her fingertips to her lips.

“How did you answer her?”

“Like this.” Catherine caught her lower lip between her teeth.

John smiled. “You are very clever, Miss Reynolds. Very clever indeed.”

“I’m afraid it’s more of a habit than cleverness, but it worked just the same.”

“Whichever it is, I’m glad she didn’t figure out the truth.”

“She is a bit overbearing sometimes.”

“Some of the time. I think all of the time.”

“But she does care for me in her own way, and I’m fond of her.”

“I can see that you are, but I must admit that there is something about pulling the wool over Mrs. Goosetree’s eyes that’s very satisfying.”

John laughed and Catherine laughed, too.

Sixteen

“Was it a stalking horse, a Trojan horse, or merely a horse of a different color?” No, dearest readers, this comes straight from the horse’s mouth. It was no ghost who rode Lord Chatwin’s steed in the park that dark morn. It was none other than a lady in distress. Her name shall be omitted to protect her innocence. The lady and her companion were out for an early-morning ride when their groom was injured. Lord Chatwin happened upon them and offered his assistance. What was needed was his horse. The Earl handed it over, and as is often heard by many: The rest is history.

Lord Truefitt
Society’s Daily Column

T
HE AIR WAS
warm and the sky was a glorious shade of blue as John stopped the phaeton in front of her home. Catherine didn’t know when she’d felt so good. Of course, that wonderful feeling that curled around her so tightly
might have something to do with the way she still tingled from head to toe from John’s passionate kisses.

She knew the day would come when he would discard her in favor of another, but she wasn’t going to think about that right now. It would hurt her heart too much. All she wanted to remember was the taste of his sweet lips on hers and the touch of his hands and his mouth on her breasts, for surely there could never be another feeling that could compare to that.

There were two other reasons she was happy. John was going to help her find her real father, and he was going to continue to pursue her for a while. Nothing could make her happier than that.

John set the brake and jumped down from the carriage. He reached up and helped Catherine out with all the proper manners of a true gentleman. She admitted to herself that she would rather he be a rogue and take her firmly by the waist with his strong, warm hands.

“So you’ll have a messenger deliver your mother’s diary to me first thing tomorrow morning,” John said as they walked toward her front door.

“Yes, and you will talk to your uncle, hopefully this afternoon, and see what he knows about Mr. Beechman and Mr. Chatsworth.”

“Yes, if Bentley is home and doesn’t have guests, I’ll see what I can find out. And then I will look for you at Lord Baxley’s party later in the evening.”

They stopped in front of her door and their eyes met. Catherine felt the need to thank him for helping her but refrained from doing so. He’d made his wishes on that clear.

Looking up into his beautiful dark eyes, she simply said, “I enjoyed the afternoon with you.”

He smiled at her. “Did you?”

She nodded. “Your friends are very nice. It was lovely to meet them.”

His brow wrinkled with a mock frown while the smile stayed on his lips. “My friends? Is that what really made the afternoon lovely for you?”

She returned his smile with a teasing one of her own. “Perhaps there is something I’m forgetting?” She put a finger to her lips as if she were trying to remember. “Oh, yes, the wine was very good, too.”

He moved closer to her as if he might bend down his head and kiss her right in front of her door, but instead softly he said, “You are a tormentor, Catherine, and I enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

Catherine’s heart soared. It was ridiculous of her, really. She knew he probably said things like that to every young lady, but she so wanted to believe this was the one time he meant it.

“I feel the exact same way, my lord. You torment me with your kisses and caresses. So before I go inside, do my lips look as if they’d been kissed?”

His voice lowered to a husky whisper as he said, “Very much so.”

Her brow wrinkled. “What am I to do? Victoria might be fooled once, but she is too sharp to be fooled for very long.”

A twinkle appeared in his eyes. “Then I suggest you walk into the house biting on your lower lip.”

All of a sudden the door opened and there stood Victoria holding a sheet of newspaper in her hand. Catherine looked down and saw the name Lord Truefitt written at the bottom of the page.

She forgot all about her lips as her throat went dry.

Had Lady Lynette already given the information about her to the scandal lord?

Surely not. There hadn’t been enough time, had there? Victoria didn’t look as if she were upset about anything, not even the fact that Catherine was later returning from her afternoon ride than she should have been.

“There you are, Catherine. I expected you back sooner than this.”

Victoria stood aside so they could step into the foyer. Catherine closed her parasol and untied her bonnet while John took off his hat.

“It’s my fault we’re late,” John said, stepping in front of Catherine as if to shield her. “We were delayed because there were so many people in the park. Viscount Stonehurst and his lady wife, the Earl of Dunraven and his Countess, and the Earl of Colebrooke and his Countess saw us in the park, and they all stopped to meet Catherine. We lost track of the time.”

Victoria looked surprised but pleased. “Oh, well, I suppose it’s all right that she’s late since she met so many of your friends.”

Victoria looked at Catherine. “You remembered all their names, didn’t you?”

“Every one of them, Vickie. I really have a very good memory.”

Victoria turned from Catherine and toward John without making a comment about Catherine’s memory. “Lord Chatwin, have you seen this today?” She handed him the sheet of paper. “It’s Lord Truefitt’s column.”

Catherine froze. What did it say? There had to be a reason Victoria was talking about it, but what?

John returned the sheet to her without bothering to even glance at it. “I seldom look at these things, Mrs. Goosetree.”

“Really?” she said with a hint of a challenge in her voice. “You should. You’re often in it.”

“My point exactly.”

“Perhaps you’ll want to read this one. Lord Truefitt says he knows who rode your horse that day in the park and it was no ghost.”

Catherine held her breath. Lynette must have gone straight from the party to Lord Truefitt last night for the story to be in today’s column. How else could it have been printed so fast?

“Is that what he says?” John asked with no real questioning in his voice.

Catherine was impressed with how John kept his gaze straight on Victoria’s face and never blinked an eye. Catherine didn’t know how he did it. Her gaze was steadily flicking back and forth between John and Victoria.

“Yes,” Victoria said, laying the paper on top of the foyer table after John gave it back to her. “Apparently she was traveling with someone who became ill and needed assistance. For reasons not stated, the young lady needed to borrow your horse and you allowed her to ride it.”

Catherine remained quiet, allowing John to answer Victoria. Catherine was grateful John remained calm and collected and didn’t bother to give her so much as a glance. That would have been a sure way to admit guilt.

“Lord Truefitt is a writer, Mrs. Goosetree. I’m sure he knows how to tell a good story,” John said.

“Is it a true story?” Victoria asked with a no-nonsense tone to her voice.

It was unusual for Victoria not to come right out and say what was on her mind, but she seemed to be playing a game with John. Was she testing him to see if he would tell
the truth, or did she really not realize that this story was about them?

She knew John must be dying to know how it came about that the truth showed up in Lord Truefitt’s column today. But she’d promised Lady Lynette that she wouldn’t mention her name to anyone and she wouldn’t. Not even to John.