DangerbyDalliance (2 page)

Dorvee bowed to Sarah. “Miss Rigdon, it was such a pleasure
to make your acquaintance. I apologize again for the interruption.” He nodded
to Latimer and strode from the room, sucking the energy out with him.

Sarah expected Latimer to make some sort of excuse for his
friend’s state of undress, but he only continued to look at her. Before she
could put her scrambled thoughts back together the words escaped her. “Mr.
Latimer, I need you to pay my father’s annual royalties seven months early.”

Archer raised his brow. He had no idea what he’d expected
from Miss Sarah Rigdon, but a demand for an early royalty payment wasn’t it.
Her father had improved on Archer’s own patent for a multilevel cog,
facilitating the cogs ability to rotate in all directions. This enabled the
cogs in the MENV, a Multiple Environment Navigation Vehicle, to run more
smoothly. It was an easy modification, but Archer would never take another
inventor’s idea without making due payment.

For the last two years, while he’d developed the MENV, he’d
paid Rigdon royalties for the use of his cog. And now his daughter, the woman
who for two years had teased his senses and driven him a little crazy, wanted
him to pay early.

And examine her father’s latest invention.

He bounced his knee, energy sparked by her presence flowing
through him.

The invention was intriguing. The Bank of England had been
struggling with an increased influx of false notes in the London area for
months. It perturbed him that Miss Rigdon knew about this situation. The
parties involved had worked very hard to ensure the general public didn’t find
out and panic. Paper money would grow worthless and the run on gold could
topple their economy.

Mr. Rigdon’s machine was timely indeed. Unfortunately his
inventions tended to be big on ideas and rather limited in the execution. Going
by Sarah’s expression she didn’t believe in it either.

He would add it to his to-do list, but there were a number
of projects more important than trying to fix the unfixable.

Archer leaned back and crossed his legs, tapping his fingers
against his knee. “Why would I pay your father’s annual royalties early?”

A flush darkened her cheeks. For a second, desperation
flickered in her eyes, but it was gone too quickly for him to be sure.

“Because I asked you to.”

“What do you need the money for?”

“That would be none of your business.”

“On the contrary, Miss Rigdon, it is very much my business.”

She tilted her chin in that challenging manner of hers.

His temper flamed. It was bad enough that the little virgin
and her voluptuous curves made him hard as a rock as soon as she walked into a
room. She might look demure and meek, but deep inside her he sensed a passion
that would set the world on fire if she ever released it.

Only he was sure she’d never done so.

Not that he ever got the opportunity to find out. She always
looked at him as if he wasn’t worth her time, as if speaking to him was a
strenuous task, and when he tried to engage her she excused herself within
minutes.

And now she was asking him for a favor and still wouldn’t
give an inch.

Not this time. “Miss Rigdon?”

She huffed. “All right, I require a new wardrobe.”

He tilted his head. “A new wardrobe?”

She studied the wall over his shoulders and nodded.

Archer didn’t believe her. Sarah Rigdon was not the type of
woman who would come to him asking for money for something as frivolous as new
clothes. Hell, most of the time she was buried under so many layers she
probably had enough clothes to last a lifetime. “Do you seriously expect me to
believe you need more clothes?” He gestured at the three layers that covered
her. “You appear to be wearing enough clothes to cover yourself and three more
people.”

She narrowed her gaze. Her nostrils flared. “Will you do it
or not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. What are you willing to do in
exchange?”

She leaned forward and rested her palms on his desk. A
couple of her fingertips appeared slightly stained. He narrowed his gaze.
Stained by ink. The smears did not match the ones he had on his fingers from
writing and working on his drawings.

Printer’s ink, not writing ink.

“What in God’s name do you expect me to do?”

Her tone of voice grated on his nerves. “If you were anyone
else I would say pose for my friend, but I cannot see you being a model.”

She came half out of her chair. “And why on earth not? It is
not exactly challenging to stand or sit while someone paints you.”

“Really?” He mirrored her pose and leaned forward until they
were only a few inches apart. “Well then, if it is so easy let’s make this the
condition for the early payment.”

“All right.”

Her easy acceptance drove him crazy. He still didn’t know
why she needed the money. “And you will pose nude.”

She jerked back and straightened. “What?”

Here we are.
Now she would have to tell him why she
really needed the money and he could assist her with whatever her problem was.

She turned sheet white. Panic glimmered in her eyes before
she looked down and tugged on her cuffs.

Archer felt a little nauseated. It had not been his
intention to scare her. He sat back down and waited for her surrender.

“All right.”

He struggled to control his expression. “Excuse me?”

Miss Rigdon looked back up, a mulish tilt to her chin. “I
said all right.”

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
Talk about a
plan rebounding.

“What makes you think Mr. Dorvee even wants to paint me?”

Archer yanked his spinning thoughts back under control.

The fact that as soon as he saw you his hands twitched, itching
for his sketchbook.
If Warren had had paper and pen handy, he would have
started to sketch her right then and there.

“He’s between projects at the moment.” Meaning he had about
twenty canvasses in various stages of production and had finished none of them.
Not for more than three months. His partner needed inspiration.

And Warren always told him to spend more time with Miss
Rigdon, to discover if their chemistry could lead to something more.

Archer didn’t think his lover had imagined this kind of
togetherness.

Sarah couldn’t believe what she had said. But there had been
no other way. She’d rather pose nude than have to tell Mr. I-am-so-in-control
that her father used the money she had set aside for taxes to purchase the
materials for the latest version of the Verification Device.

The thought of undressing before the handsome Mr. Dorvee and
showing him all her imperfections so he could capture them forever on canvas
was overwhelming. Before her shaking knees could win, she focused on the
details.

“So, in exchange for me sitting for Mr. Dorvee you will pay
my father’s royalties early.”

Latimer nodded.

“When will you make your payment and how long do you expect
me to sit for Mr. Dorvee?”

“Starting tomorrow, you sit for Warren every day for a month
or until he has what he needs, whichever comes first.”

She shook her head. “You make the payment in three weeks and
I will sit for Mr. Dorvee every day unless I have other responsibilities.”

“Agreed.”

Sarah swallowed.

“I assure you nothing untoward will happen. You are
completely safe in our care while you are here.” He exhaled and for a moment
his lips softened. “And if at any point you would like to tell me what you
require the funds for, we can reevaluate the situation.”

When hell becomes an ice skater’s paradise.

She flashed back to Mr. Kemmer. The broad jaw, wide
shoulders and dirty-gray eyes. His onion-filled breath. His long fingers on her
shoulders. His chapped lips against hers.

“We could come up with other ways for you to pay your
taxes, Miss Rigdon. Other ways indeed.”

The memory nearly made her ill. Everyone admired and trusted
Kemmer, but he’d always made her shudder. Until now he had been proper and
never stepped overtly out of line. Until he found out their bank account was
close to empty.

Then he’d told her if she’d whored herself to him he would
find a way to make their paperwork disappear. However scandalous Latimer’s
alternative, deep inside her she trusted him.

And don’t anyone ask me why I have faith in him.

She straightened her shoulders.
I have no choice.
Whatever Mr. Dorvee planned couldn’t be as bad as the alternative.

Sarah met Latimer’s thoughtful gaze. “I trust your word.”

“Or you could tell me why you really need the money. No sane
woman would risk her reputation for clothes.”

As much as she longed for someone to share the burden with,
her father’s good name was hers to protect. Latimer could never know the truth.
“Then you obviously know less about women than you thought. I will be back
tomorrow morning.” She ground her teeth. “I will use the side and back
entrances. My repeated visits will cause talk if I arrive at the front door.”

He nodded. “I have an unmarked steam coach I can send for
you.”

“Thank you. I will give you a different meeting point every
day.”

His brows rose. “You really believe that is necessary?”

“I will do whatever I must to protect my reputation.” She
nodded to him. “Mr. Latimer.” Sarah whirled around and strode from the room.
Her thoughts were in utter chaos.

Jennings waited for her with her coat over his arm. “Would
you like me to call you a hansom, Miss Rigdon?”

“No thank you, Jennings. I feel in need of fresh air.” She
was only capable of a short smile before she stepped outside. Her heart raced
and her knees nearly buckled.

She had only one problem.

Sarah had no idea if this weakness was due to worry or
excitement. The thought of spending more time with Warren Dorvee, the idea that
Archer Latimer would be close by should make her shiver with dread.

Instead it made her tingle.

Archer stared at the closed door and rubbed his face. When
he’d risen this morning this was not how he’d anticipated his day going. He
snorted. Nothing new where Miss Sarah Rigdon was concerned.

Part of him wanted to send her a missive telling her the
bank draft was on its way.

But another part, a deeper and darker part, welcomed the
opportunity to spend time with her, to observe her with Warren and see if their
dreams could come true.

He didn’t know why a curvy virgin with a sharp tongue had
such an effect on him. She’d always made him highly aware of the difference
between male and female and had done so from the first moment he’d met her.

He strode back to his office and his work. Her scent of
honeysuckle had spread through the room and now surrounded his desk.

Archer slumped back in his chair. Her sky-blue eyes that
always looked at him as if he were about to jump up and ravish her. The blonde
hair she only ever wore neatly tied at the back of her head in a bun, even at
evening gatherings. And her body. Others would call her robust, fat even. He called
her curvy and seductive as hell with that intangible energy that hovered just
below the surface.

He wanted to pull out all the respectable pins that held
back her hair and muss it up, bring that hidden volcano to life. Drag the
boring and uptight clothes off her goddess body and see how she responded.

And he was doing exactly that.

He paused and stared out the window without seeing anything.
Archer never lied to himself.
I want to see her out of her element, her
feathers ruffled. I want to break through the invisible barrier she surrounds
herself with and discover the woman underneath.

He loved Warren, but both of them carried demons inside,
which sometimes made it difficult to be together. They needed someone to stand
between them, someone to soften their edges.

He wanted to discover if Miss Sarah Emma Rigdon could be the
one.

Archer pushed back his chair and marched out of the office.
In the hallway he pressed a button on the AetherComp. “Where is Warren?”

“In the sunroom.” The Comp’s low voice echoed tinnily
through the machine.

Archer released the button and walked to the back of the
house and the parlor they’d converted into a sunroom when they’d moved in four
years ago. Cutting all the beautiful windows into the brick hadn’t been easy,
but the end result had made the work worth it.

Sunlight filled the room overlooking the garden, large for a
house in the city, but a must for both of them. Warren lounged on a sofa, his
sketchbook in hand but resting forgotten on his abdomen. His expression was
relaxed and with the sun playing up the red in his hair he looked delicious.

Archer bowed down and kissed Warren on those firm, bitable
lips.

His lover clasped his nape and stopped him from moving back.
“Not so fast.” He deepened the kiss. Archer rested his hands on the sofa
cushions on either side of Warren.

Their tongues played their favorite game of suck and
retreat. Peace sank into Archer as Warren’s scent of lemon and sage with a hint
of turpentine surrounded him. Warren’s hand moved from his neck to his shoulder
and dug to his arse, pulling Archer’s stiffening dick against his own.

Archer pulled back and nipped Warren’s lower lip. “Thank
you, I needed that.”

Warren smiled, love and arousal bringing out the gold in his
eyes. “You had enough tension racing through you to crack a wall.” He rubbed
his fingertips across Archer’s cheek. “What happened? Has the indomitable Miss
Rigdon thrown you in a spin again?”

Archer sank onto the sofa, which was wide enough they could
lie side by side, and leaned into Warren’s touch. When they’d moved in together
four years ago, well aware of what would happen if anyone ever discovered their
true relationship, they’d sworn, while they had to lie to the world, they would
never lie to each other.

He kissed Warren. “She is the one for me.”

Warren nodded. “I know.”

Anxiety rolled through Archer’s stomach. “What about you?”

Warren cupped Archer’s cheek and kissed him softly. “She
grabbed me by the throat the minute I saw her.” He stroked his finger across
Archer’s cheek. “And not just because I want to paint her.”

Archer leaned more heavily against Warren as the tension
drained out of him.

“From the very first time you mentioned her, through gritted
teeth I might say, I knew she had you by the balls.”

The peace fled. Archer climbed to his feet and strode to the
window. “She will be here tomorrow to sit for you.”

Warren gave him an incredulous stare and rose from his
slouched position, setting his feet on the floor. “She what?”

“Miss Rigdon asked me to look at her father’s latest machine.
She also requested an advance on her father’s royalties. As usual we got into a
sniping match and I made posing for you a condition of early payment.”

Warren gaped for a second before his expression hardened.
“No. Send her a letter and tell her the money is on the way. This is not the
way to go.”

Archer rubbed his forehead. “I saw your response to her.
We’d said we’d take the next step if we found someone we both agree on. And I
know you want to paint her.”

“Of course I want to paint her. She is the most intriguing
subject I have seen in a very long time. Attempting to capture the fire raging
deep inside her will keep me occupied for the next decade. But we have to find
another way.”

Archer straightened and shrugged. Now he’d decided on a path
he saw no need to hash over decisions already made. Moving forward was the only
option. “She’ll be posing naked.”

Warren’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“She was using that tone of voice, the one that drives me
crazy. And she came up with this ridiculous tale she needed the money for a new
wardrobe. As if. I just threw it out there, expecting her to kick it right back
at me and tell me the truth.” He looked at Warren. “Instead she said yes.”

He rubbed his chest as if trying to remove the stain of his
behavior. The end didn’t justify the means, but he could see no other way to
have her in their lives, to get to know her away from prying stares.

He met his lover’s gaze. If Warren continued to disagree he
would tell Miss Rigdon, but he hoped his friend would come around to this
approach.

Both of them needed to spend time with Sarah without outside
interruption. He’d tried approaching her in public, spending time with her and
getting to know her. And it hadn’t worked.

This was an unconventional, but effective approach.

Archer dropped back onto the sofa.

Now Warren had to agree.

Warren pulled his legs up and leaned back against the arm of
the sofa until he sat across from his lover. He stretched out one leg until his
foot nestled against Archer’s hard dick. Archer hissed at the gentle contact.

Warren had never seen his friend, and love of his life, like
this. Under normal circumstances there would be no way he would agree to
something that was basically blackmail. But he realized Archer, the man who
even after years of being together struggled to express his love with words,
had focused in on Miss Sarah Rigdon.

She was the one for him. For them. Warren didn’t have it in
him to stand in the way. The end did not justify the means. He only hoped he
would not regret this, for both their sakes. “Tomorrow will be interesting.”

Archer’s eyes lit up. A smile curved his delicious lips.

Warren grabbed Archer’s neck and pulled him into a deep
kiss. They both moaned. Warren sat astride his lover. He rubbed his hard cock
against Archer’s, wishing he could make their clothes disappear with a thought.

Part of him was ecstatic at this new development. The artist
in him wanted nothing more than to delve deep into Miss Sarah Emma Rigdon,
literally and figuratively. Painting her in the nude would give him untold
opportunity. There was this indescribable something about the young blonde.
Innocent and temptress. He wanted to explore her as an artist
and
as a
man.

Another part of him worried as much as he saw opportunity.

He loved Archer with all his heart. But he knew that his
friend needed more than just the two of them.

And so did he.

Sometimes.

As he sucked on his partner’s tongue as much as he wanted to
suck on another part of him, he imagined the tender hands of a third.

A third who could give them both what they needed.

He pressed against Archer, aroused and enticed, as he
imagined the three of them together.

The third who could give them both what they had searched
for.

Family.

Possibilities.

The big oaf before him might not want to admit it, but he
yearned for a family as much as Warren. They had never spoken about it. Never
touched on the beatings Warren had taken from his father for wanting to be an
artist. Or the cold distain Archer had to suffer from his father for becoming
an engineer and inventor, for mixing with regular people.

Her Majesty promoted and supported this new and important
layer of society, giving many of these inventors and scientists her attention
and status, wanting them to integrate into the peerage. But Archer’s father had
made it clear Archer was not living up to expectations.

There had been no point in sharing their need for family
until they could find a woman who wanted to be part of this unconventional
relationship. They wouldn’t give each other up to follow the mores of a regular
family and no orphanage would let a single man officially adopt a child. It
would mean building a façade to present to the outside world, always being
careful and watching her behavior. What woman would agree to something like
that?

None so far. They had tried twice before, but each woman had
been chosen because of the likelihood of agreement, not because she was
essential to their lives. Archer and he would have settled, but neither woman
had welcomed their suggestion.

He’d given up hope of finding the right woman until today.

Warren didn’t know why, but the something that simmered
below Sarah Rigdon’s surface made him believe for the very first time in ages.

He pushed his hands into Archer’s hair, thrusting his tongue
into the other man’s mouth, rubbing against his. Gasping, he pulled back and
found himself captured in Archer’s burning eyes.

Warren grabbed the two sides of Archer’s shirt and ripped
them apart. Buttons flew like small projectiles, but he didn’t care.

“My valet will hate you for that.” Archer arched his back
when Warren licked around one dark-brown nipple.

“Fuck your valet,” Warren mumbled as he kissed his way
across Archer’s chest to the other nipple. The deep covering of dark hair
tempted his senses. He drowned in his partner’s scent of iron and pine, with a
hint of oil thrown in.

Archer cupped his cheeks and pulled Warren’s head up to his.
Their lips met in another knee-weakening kiss, noses bumping, teeth clashing.
“No, fuck you.” He copied Warren’s move and tore open Warren’s paint-covered
shirt.

Warren shrugged out of it and rubbed his chest against
Archer’s. When Archer would have moved, Warren cupped Archer’s hard cock
through the fabric still covering it. “Mine. I need you.”

Archer hissed. His hips jerked against Warren’s hand. He
dropped his arms and spread his legs. Warren knelt between them and tore open
the trouser buttons. Archer’s hard cock pushed against the light cotton fabric
of his underpants, which Warren also tore to shreds.

Warren wasn’t sure why his need was so drastic, but he only
thought of touching, kissing and caressing Archer. Any part of his gorgeous
body.

Archer balled his fists when Warren wrapped his hands around
the other man’s naked shaft. The hard length, covered in silky skin, fanned the
flames inside Warren. He dropped to his stomach and sucked Archer’s dick into
his mouth.

Archer hissed and his hips rose off the sofa.

Warren pressed him back down with one hand while the other
played with the lower half of Archer’s cock. He released Archer’s shaft and
stroked his thumb along the sensitive underside while teasing the tip with his
tongue. He moved his hand up and began to play with the foreskin, pulling it
back and pushing it forward again.

Archer groaned. His head dropped back and his eyes closed.
“Do it!”

Warren chuckled at the demand, the vibrations running along
the dick in his mouth. It was delicious when Archer became demanding.

To continue the teasing he caressed the underside of
Archer’s cock both with the flat of his tongue and his thumb, one after the
other.

Archer thrust his hands into Warren’s hair and pulled. The
touch of pain drove him higher. He rubbed his own cock, caught between his body
and the cushion of the sofa, back and forth, needing stimulation as badly as
Archer.

“Warren, for fuck’s sake, stop playing. I need it.”

Me too.
Warren released Archer’s dick with an audible
pop and licked along the base two more times. Then he slid his hand along the
moist length until it had reached the head. Slowly, oh so slowly, he pulled the
skin back a little and circled the naked tip with his tongue.

Archer tightened his grip in his hair, groaning, making
Warren want to thrust his own cock against something.

“More.” Archer spoke through clenched teeth, his whole body
under tension like a bow just about to be released.

Warren knew what his lover was after. With delicate teeth he
nipped at the sensitive skin still rolled around the naked head. Then he gently
released it, watching it cover the head again. He pulled the tip of the cock
into his mouth and sucked. Hard. His hand gripped the base of the dick tightly.

He used his stomach muscles to raise his upper body as he
circled his other hand around the sensitive sac. With care he increased the
pressure on Archer’s balls and the base of the cock while sucking as if his
life depended on it.