Lady Folbroke's Delicious Deception (8 page)

‘I apologise. It is just that, meals can be a difficult time for me.’

‘Do you require assistance?’

‘That will not be necessary.’ It humiliated him to display his weakness so clearly, and he longed to end the game they were playing and lie with her. Once their bodies touched, she could see how little this mattered.

But she had ignored him, for he could hear her drawing her chair closer to his. ‘I said I did not need your help.’ His tone was sharper than he had intended.

But it did not seem to bother her, for her response was placid enough. ‘That is a pity. For it might be quite pleasant for both of us.’

He started as she touched his mouth with her finger, resting the tip on the centre of his lower lip, almost as though it were a kiss.

He touched his tongue to it and tasted wine. She had dipped her finger into the glass.

He reached out, very carefully, to his own glass, dipping a finger in the contents, and then following the sound of her voice to try to touch her lip.

She laughed again, catching his hand and bringing it the last few inches to her mouth to kiss it clean. At the touch of her tongue, his own mouth went so dry he could hardly speak.

‘You see?’ she whispered. ‘It might not be so bad to accept my help.’

‘But I would not want to grow used to being hand fed, no matter how attractive the hands might be.’

She laughed. ‘My hands might be ugly for all you know. And my face as well.’

He pulled his hand away from her lips, clasping her fingers in his. Then he turned it over, stroking the fingers, rubbing his thumb along the palm, over the back, circling the wrist. The fingers were long, the nails short, the skin soft. He held it to his cheek. ‘The hand is lovely, as is the woman. You will never convince me otherwise.’

She sighed in response and he could feel her lean towards him as the pressure of her hand increased. ‘You flatter, sir. But you do it well.’

‘And you tempt. I am utterly captivated.’ Which was not so much flattery as truth. He was hard for her, and they had not even begun to eat. But while he could not change his body’s reaction, control of the evening was returning to him, and with it, he relaxed and focused on his ultimate goal. ‘Before we go further, am I to be your only company tonight?’

‘Of course.’ She seemed surprised that he would ask. Surely that was a good sign.

‘Then I take it that you still have not found your husband? Or have you found him, and are punishing him for leading you into last night’s danger?’

She gave a little hiss of surprise and snatched her hand away. ‘I did not betray my husband. It was he who left me. I have not seen him in some time. And I suspect he would make sport of my search for him, just as you do.’

‘I am sorry. I did not mean to remind you of unhappiness. I only wished to ascertain that we would be alone for the whole evening.’ To cover the awkward
moment, he went back to his meal. As unobtrusively as possible, he touched the food on his plate to learn its location, then wiped his fingers on the napkin and reached for a knife to cut the chop he had found. He could hear the scrape of her cutlery as she began to eat as well.

Then she spoke. ‘We need have no fear of interruption. This is not actually my home. It was let so that I might entertain in private. And tonight I am expecting no one else.’

So she had ample funds, and took scrupulous care of her reputation. He could not help trying to guess her identity from the clues she was giving him. ‘Have you brought many admirers here?’

‘There have been no others. Only you.’

His pulse quickened.

‘Do not think that I have not had offers,’ she added, as though she did not wish him to think her unworthy of masculine attention. ‘But they know that I am married. And that I will not allow them to do the things they hint at when they are alone with me.’

‘And yet you invited me here?’ He smiled at her. ‘I am truly flattered. What is the reason for my good fortune?’

‘You are different.’

The way she said that word felt wonderful and strange, as though she thought it a good thing to be unlike one’s fellows. Perhaps it was, if it attracted such a woman to him. ‘I spend much of my time
wishing I were not. But you seem to deem it an advantage.’

‘I am not talking about your sight.’

‘What then?’

‘You are more handsome than the others, for one thing. And more brave.’ Her voice still had the solid, matter-of-fact quality of the previous evening, but he could almost feel the warmth of her blush on his own skin.

‘And what would make you think that?’

‘The way you protected me last night. I doubt that the men who normally seek me out would have the courage to do that with two good eyes. But you did not think twice.’

‘Which proves me a foolish drunkard, more than a hero.’

‘I think it may be possible to be both.’

And he felt the little puff of pride, along with the desire coursing in his blood. ‘And you wish to reward me for my gallantry with dinner?’

‘I told you before that it was more than that. I invited you here because you seemed to desire me. But I was not sure, when you were sober, that you would wish to come. I thought it would be better, should I be wrong, to enjoy a nice meal, than to sit alone,
en deshabille,
waiting for a man who did not want me.’ The need in her voice was evident, though she’d tried to disguise it with a light tone. Without thinking, Adrian reached out for her, almost knocking over his water goblet in the process. She steadied
it effortlessly, meeting his hand with hers on the stem of the glass.

‘I think I have had quite enough to eat,’ he said, guiding the glass to his lips for a sip of water before kissing the fingers that rested beside his on the goblet. ‘If I had known that you were dressed to seduce me when I entered, I doubt we would have made it as far as the table.’ He put down the glass again and stood. Then he took a step closer to her, listening to see if she moved away.

There was a faint hitch in her breathing as she rose. ‘I had not expected it to be so easy to trap you. Should I take it as a compliment? Or is it that you are none too particular about your conquests?’

Was that bitterness he heard? ‘Are you angry with me for coming when summoned?’

‘Perhaps I am angry at myself for doing the summoning.’ There was another pause. ‘Or perhaps, now that the moment grows close, I cannot maintain a facade of sophistication. While I might wish to pretend otherwise, to be with you like this frightens me.’

There was that hint of vulnerability in her voice again, and it drew him to her in a way that was very different than the simple lust of the night before. He closed the distance between them and put his arms around her body, feeling her stiffen, and then relax. ‘Do not feel the need to play the coquette to hold my interest. Or to continue with the act, should you change your mind. I wish to know you just as you are.

And I wish to give you pleasure.’ And for a moment, he took comfort at how good it felt to have something to offer her, and to know that the night might be about more than his needs.

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘The bedchamber is on the other side of the sitting room. If you wish to retire there, I do not mind …’ Her body tensed again.

‘There is no need to rush,’ he assured her, stroking her shoulder. ‘You were quite right to think that I desired you. I have been on tenterhooks the whole day, fearing that I misunderstood your offer. And if I seemed to rush through my meal, it was not because I wanted to be elsewhere. I worried that I would do something laughable, or give you a distaste of me.’

‘By dining with me?’ she said. ‘What a strange notion. I would never find you laughable, unless you sought to amuse me. And I’m sure that when you upset me, it will have little to do with your table manners.’

‘When I upset you? You seem most sure of the fact, madam.’

‘Of course. You will have your way with me—and then be off. That is your intention, is it not?’

And what could he say to that? For that had been his intention exactly.

‘But I am hoping that, after all of your bragging last night, that the experience is sufficient to assuage some of the pain of your departure.’

What had her bastard of a husband done to her that she was so eager to be used, and yet so convinced
that she could not hold his interest for more than a night? It put him in mind to prove her wrong. ‘But suppose that was not my intention at all?’

She seemed to shrink, as though she wished to evaporate, even as he held her close. Then she said softly, with none of the confidence he’d grown used to, ‘Have I done something wrong?’

‘On the contrary. You are more right than I ever imagined. Why do you ask?’

‘If you do not want me …’

‘Of course I want you, my darling. But things have more flavour if we take the time to savour them. Is there a couch by the fire where we might take our wine and sit for a time?’ He could feel her taking a breath, ready to object. So he reached carefully and found the tip of her nose with his finger. ‘Do not worry. When the time is right, I mean to take you to bed.’ From there, he touched her chin with the same finger, guiding himself to her face until her lips met his. The briefest kiss was a taste of heaven, just as it had been the previous night. ‘As a matter of fact, I doubt I will be able to help myself.’

He kissed her again, slowly. Her mouth tasted of wine. He ran his knuckles over the curve of her shoulder, and felt the smooth fabric of her clothing. ‘What are you wearing? I think it is a dark colour. And it feels like silk. But beyond that …’

‘It is but a robe. Blue silk.’

‘Describe the colour. Is it like the sea? A robin’s egg?’

She thought for a moment. ‘I think it could be called sapphire.’

‘And what do you wear under it?’

He heard her swallow nervously. ‘My nightdress.’

Adrian wrapped his arms more tightly about her, stroking her body lightly, so as to satisfy his curiosity without arousing her. He felt no stays or petticoats. And he damned his eyes for their betrayal. He would not have been able to take food had he known that on the other side of the table there had been only a few layers of fabric between him and the softness of this woman’s body.

She was straining on tiptoe to match his height, kissing his ear with little licks of her tongue. He could feel each touch of it to the soles of his feet. ‘Let us sit,’ he whispered again. ‘Show me where to go.’

She slipped out of his arms and took him by the hand to lead him into the fog of the room, through a doorway, towards the glow of a fire. She sat him down on the grey blob before it, which turned out to be some kind of sofa, and he pushed her gently back against the arm of it. ‘Before I kiss you again, I would like to touch you.’ He wondered if it sounded strange to her. But there was so much he still did not know about her. It would not have mattered what she looked like if his intent had been to leave before the dawn. But with this woman? Somehow everything was different.

He could feel the hesitation as she tried to decipher the request. And then she said, ‘Where?’

He laughed. ‘Everywhere. But let us begin at the beginning, shall we?’ He reached out a tentative finger to touch her hair.

Curls, just as Hendricks had said. Although he’d thought he enjoyed long hair on a woman, the texture was interesting. He could feel the carefully styled ringlets at the side, the pins that held them in place, and the way they revealed the smoothness of her neck. He dipped his head close and found the place at its base where scent had been dabbed, inhaling deeply and touching the point with his tongue.

She gave a little jump of surprise.

He ran his fingers along the place his lips had touched, finding the tendons, the hollows, feeling movement as she swallowed. It was a lovely, long neck and he wondered if the complexion was pale or a dusky gold.

Her chin was well shaped, with a firmness that hinted at stubbornness. She’d proven that already, so it was no real surprise. And there was her mouth. He smiled, remembering the taste of it. High cheekbones, a dimple, a raised brow. He smoothed it, feeling the tiny wrinkle of confusion on the forehead and the beat of a pulse in her temple. Her eyes were closed. He brushed them with his thumb, feeling the long lashes lying upon her cheeks. When they were open, he was sure that the look in those eyes would be
probing, discerning, intelligent. But she would look like a child when she slept, gentled and at peace.

‘Did you discover what you wished to know?’ He heard another faint twinge of doubt in her voice, as though she feared that she had been found wanting on close inspection.

‘You are beautiful. Just as I knew you would be.’

He could feel the heat in her cheeks, the little puff of exhaled breath, and the way her body relaxed beside his, knowing he approved of her.

Then he cupped his hand at the back of her neck, and brought her lips to his to take them as they opened to speak. Her tongue touched his eagerly, and she put her hands on his shoulders, holding him in place as though she suspected, at any moment, that he would regain his senses and reject her.

He took her mouth with deep greedy strokes of his tongue, letting his hands roam lightly over her body, feeling the heat of her through the fabric. Then he found the tie of her robe and reached beneath it, tugging her nightdress upwards until he caught the hem, pulling it until it rested even with her nipples and left her lower body sheathed in nothing but smooth blue silk. He stroked her side through the robe, moving the fabric against her until she gasped with pleasure and fought to free herself from her clothing.

He laughed, rubbing the rougher cloth of the dress against her nipples, dipping his mouth to the bare undersides of the exposed slopes beneath it, kissing
the peachskin softness of them, licking up to the place where they puckered with excitement.

Her struggling ceased and she went still, waiting for the moment when he would uncover her. When he did not move, she arched her back and moaned, and he pulled the fabric aside suddenly and feasted upon her, drawing them in turn into his mouth, sucking hard, squeezing them with his hand.