A Woman Made for Pleasure (25 page)

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Authors: Michele Sinclair

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: A Woman Made for Pleasure
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“I was going to ask earlier this week, but decided to wait until I had put this other matter to rest.”
Millie clutched her knees. It was not Selena. It was Melinda Brinson. Millie knew Chase had feelings for the seamstress; she had just not dreamed they were this strong.
“Hmm, so she loves you?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. And while she has not uttered the words aloud, she has expressed similar feelings. I do not think I have misread her.”
No
, Millie thought.
It’s hard to misread someone hugging you so close you look like one person
. Jealousy raged through Millie’s veins. Never had she envied anyone as much as she envied Melinda Brinson.
What was it about the pretty seamstress? Why did Chase feel the need to protect her? It was not as if Mrs. Brinson’s son was his. If he were, Chase would have married her long ago. Maybe the older man was right.
Chase was in love.
The visitor cleared his throat. “Well, I wish you the best. When are the banns going to be posted?”
“They will be read next week. I believe I should be able to wrap up this other matter by then.”
“It would be a shame for England to lose you. Are you sure you want to marry and settle down?”
Settling down with the beautiful seamstress would hardly be boring
, Millie thought, imagining Chase bouncing Melinda’s son upon his knee.
“I am sure,” Chase said resolutely. “I will soon introduce you to her. You will then understand the ease of my decision.”
“Pretty, eh?”
“I am fairly confident you will think so. But it is not just her beauty. It’s the way she handles herself and others—even me—which has me ensnared. She is the most beguiling creature I have ever known. And yesterday, I realized that I want her with me all the time, not just when I can sneak her away. I like her honesty and dedication to those she loves. If she accepts, I will be a lucky man.”
“She will accept you. Every unmarried woman in England has vied for your attentions. There will be a lot of sad faces come next week.”
Chase moved toward the study door, hinting he was ready to end their conversation. “Well, I must say, this was an unexpected visit. But I appreciate the call, despite the late hour. I must finish up here and then get some sleep. I have much to do before next Saturday.”
“Well, good-bye, my friend.”
Millie was barely able to move into the shadows before she saw Sir Edward leave the study and exit through the front door.
She felt like curling up in a ball and crying. Chase was in love and he was going to marry Melinda Brinson. He thought her beautiful, graceful, honest, and dedicated. The very words Millie would have used to describe the kind seamstress who had worked miracles with Jennelle’s outdated gowns. She could not bring herself to hate the woman for loving Chase.
Millie huddled in the shadows, wiping away her tears. Her world had narrowed considerably. She felt she would be crushed with the weight of impending loneliness. She had been foolish not to acknowledge the true depth of her feelings before now. She loved him deeply. And had for some time.
As a child, she loved how he would argue with her but would acknowledge her ingenuity. He thought her clever, and most boys had thought her small, weak, and ill-mannered.
When they met again, Chase had changed into a powerful and alluring man who haunted her every thought. She relished each conversation—whether pleasant or confrontational. And she secretly yearned for each meeting to end with his touch. She had not realized it was all one-sided. Those few precious kisses were merely ways to entertain and control his sister’s reckless friend. How could she be so foolish to think that it was anything more?
Millie took several deep breaths, trying to regain control of her emotions. She would not have had him anyway, she told herself. She promised long ago to avoid men like him. As Aimee and Jennelle had reminded her earlier, she wanted someone who was averse to following rules. Someone who possessed a strong passion for adventures. That certainly didn’t describe Charles Wentworth III.
Then Millie remembered Chase’s haunting, prideful elocution of his bride-to-be.
He liked himself more whenever she was around
. When he had spoken the words, she realized that was exactly how she felt around him. She was more comfortable with herself. Her petite stature was never an issue. She did not have to pretend to be polite or continually speak like a well-bred lady. He didn’t even mind when she cursed in front of him. Chase knew and, in an odd way, accepted all of her eccentricities.
The only type of adventure Millie could recall Chase genuinely frowning upon was her love for cave exploration. She could have given that one up to keep the rest. The one man in the world with whom she could be herself—and she had lost him to someone she actually liked. Why couldn’t it have been to the well-bred society priss? With Selena, Millie would have had no reservations about employing every scheme possible to prevent the marriage.
Millie was about to begin crying anew when the study door opened. Through tear-filled lashes, she watched Chase ascend the stairs with a candle, leaving the study in darkness. She remained where she was for some time. Only after she was sure he was in bed did she rise and proceed toward her room. She took off her robe and sat on the edge of the soft mattress, feeling completely dejected as she recalled their last conversation once more.
Chase had told her he knew about the meeting she had overheard. He said he knew what was going on and that he wasn’t in danger. He was laying a trap for them. But what he did not seem to understand was that
they
were laying a trap for
him
. They suspected his dual purpose and were preparing to kill him.
Oh no.
... Millie winced.
The note. She forgot the note. Even if Chase were pledging himself to another, she was going to save his life. It was not for her sake; it was for Aimee’s. She lit a candle and quickly descended the stairs back to the study. When she rounded the newel, Chase suddenly appeared in the shadows.
He had returned to finish what he had been doing when Sir Edward had interrupted with his unexpected visit. Chase had just spent the last week making everyone believe he was staying at Reece’s place in St. James’s to escape the torment of chaperoning three young women. In truth, he had traveled to Dorset and spent the past four days searching his country estate for the other two markers. Despite having carefully searched every room, he could find no hint of what the items were, let alone where they could be. Even more disturbing was the slight pieces of evidence that others had been exploring through his childhood home in a similar manner, taking advantage of the minimal staff while his mother was in Town.
Rounding the darkened corner to search his late father’s study, Chase was not prepared to see Millie once again, dressed in a thin linen chemise backlit from the candlelight. “What the devil?”
Millie reeled backward, feeling her heart instantly begin to pound. “Bloody hell, Chase. You startled me.”
She straightened herself and continued into the study. When she turned, he was following her. He was still wearing his breeches, but his cravat and jacket were gone. His white linen shirt was loose, and he had released the ties around his neck so that a good portion of his chest hair was peeking through. Millie could not help but stare.
Her intense gaze instantly ignited every physical need Chase had spent the last several hours suppressing. “Bloody hell, yourself. What in the name of all that is holy are you wearing?”
“No need to raise your voice. You know perfectly well what I am wearing,” Millie said, straightening her back in an automatic show of indifference to his sharp question.
Chase felt his usually well-controlled temper start to rear. “Where in damnation is your robe?”
“Honestly, you are beginning to curse more than I do. I wasn’t thinking clearly when I left my room, but in truth, I had not expected to run into anyone while completing my errand.”
Chase ran his fingers through his hair and roughly rubbed his scalp. The woman was going to drive him insane, he thought. Did she not know how sheer her chemise was? How it affected a man?
Each night he battled himself to keep from entering her room and taking what was his. He had already introduced more to her in the gardens than he had planned. Chase fully intended to be married when he made Millie completely his, but she was making it exceedingly difficult, standing there in her practically transparent chemise.
Chase felt himself grow hard, straining against his breeches. He could see the clear outline of her nude body beneath the seemingly sheer cloth. If she didn’t return to her room now, he would not be able to keep himself from throwing her down and burying himself in the warm softness of her.
He blew the candle out.
Chase knew Millie was incensed. “What the . . . whatever are you thinking? I need this candle to finish my errand!”
He reached out and seized her free arm. “Come on. You are going to bed.” Chase knew Millie did not understand. That she didn’t realize how close he was to losing control and attacking her.
Millie wrenched her arm free, walked to his desk, and placed the smoking candle down. “I am not. I have something to do and I am going to do it,” she murmured angrily, searching for pen and paper.
Chase swallowed, as unfulfilled need threatened to consume him. The candle had been nothing compared to the moonlight highlighting her beautiful assets.
Her hair was loosely braided and her feet were bare. He reminded himself to breathe. He stood there for a moment just staring at the vision when he realized where she was—in his study, behind his desk.
Chase’s emotions boomeranged between confusion and sexual aggravation. “What, pray tell, does your errand have to do with my study?”
Millie was concentrating on her task, and it took her a minute to understand his question. She put down the pen and lightly chuckled to herself. “Oh, I forgot. I must be more tired than I realized. I was going to write you a note.”
Intensely aware of the sensual hunger in his loins, Chase responded harshly. “For the love of God. You were writing me a note? What kind of foolish . . .” Seeing the reflections of pain in her lavender gaze, Chase immediately regretted his tactlessness.
His harsh tone and words, mixed with the emotional shock of learning of his intention to marry, was the last straw. Tears sprang to her eyes. Millie blinked them back. The mockery in his voice was her undoing. Millie fought impending tears. The man had severely wounded her pride too many times in one day. He deserved whatever he got. She straightened her shoulders and proceeded to head out the door, dismissing him as she brushed by.
“Oh no, you don’t.” He reached out and pulled her toward him. He knew he had hurt her with his last comment. It wasn’t his intention at all, but he was going crazy. She was so close, and her state of dress made her incredibly tempting. Worse, he was unable to do anything about it. Chase grabbed her shoulders and quickly realized it was a very unwise thing to do in his state of arousal.
“Tell me what is so important,” he demanded softly.
Millie gulped. “Those men don’t believe you really want to join them. They believe you are lying.”
“Of course they do. But it doesn’t matter. I have something they want,” Chase said, stroking her cheek.
“And Marston. He was there when Lord Brumby died. I think he knows those men.”
Chase gathered her face into his hands. “When will you begin to trust me? Believe in me?” He asked the question but never gave her a chance to respond. She was standing too close to him. She was too beautiful. Her scent too intoxicating. And her eyes. Her striking eyes, glittering with so much emotion he could no longer prevent the inevitable.
He closed his hand around the back of her head and brought her mouth to his. Her lips parted beneath his gently persuasive caress. The taste of her tears was on his tongue when he plunged into her mouth.
She clung to him and kissed him with a surge of exasperation and desperation.
Just one more kiss
, she promised herself. Millie knew she should have stopped him immediately, but it was too late to retreat even if she had wanted to do so. Her whole being was already committed.
Chase felt the initial resistance in her and sighed in satisfaction as her arms stole gently around his neck. Her soft breasts were crushed against his chest. Chase shuddered in response. His lips closed over hers warmly, again and again, working their magic while his hands, warm and possessive, cupped her breasts.
She shivered as he stroked each nub, making them come alive. “Chase, my God, what you do to me.”
“Just let me touch you, sweetheart. I need to touch you like this. I can never get enough of you.” And then his mouth was on her breast. He laved it with his tongue through her chemise, taking the nipple into his mouth and teasing it until she squirmed with want of him.
At first he did no more than gently hold the bloom between his lips, flicking his tongue over the sensitive flesh, but her impassioned response caused him to lose restraint. Pulling down the thin layer of fabric to expose her breasts, he began to suckle. The added stimulus was intense, and Millie writhed beneath him.

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