Scandalous Liaisons (27 page)

Hugh La Coeur liked kissing. He took his time with it, tasting her, caressing the inside of her mouth with deep licks of his talented tongue. She’d had her share of selfish bed partners, men who couldn’t be bothered with foreplay. Hugh, however, was a tactile man. He loved to caress her hair, her skin, her lips, and she preened like a cat under his touch, wanting to stretch and purr and soak up his affection.

Fierce and primitive in bed, he took her body as if it belonged to him, as if it existed only for his pleasure. The tiny glimpses of vulnerability she’d seen in him certainly didn’t extend to the bedroom. His lovemaking was breathtaking, his stamina impressive. Twice she’d begged him to leave her alone, only to find that she craved him again within moments. He knew it, too, the arrogant man. It was rather like an addiction to chocolate, she supposed. She only hoped she would have her fill before the storm blew over and he went away.

Charlotte picked up her brush and ran it through her hair. “I told him about the map and Glenmoore.”

“That sounds promising. What did he say?”

“He offered to help, actually.” She thought of his reactions to everything he’d witnessed so far and had to admire his aplomb. Nothing seemed to catch him off guard. And the way he’d soothed Katie and offered to buy a dozen pitchers for her . . . Charlotte had been touched. She didn’t trust people easily, but Hugh’s flashes of kindness for her, for his footman, and for her servants made her believe he was someone who genuinely cared for her welfare.

“Do you think he can? Help, that is?”

She shrugged. “I’m not certain, but I don’t see how it can hurt anything for him to try, and it will keep us occupied during the storm.”

Laughter greeted that statement. “I didn’t think you needed any outside influences to keep you two occupied.”

Charlotte set the brush down with a firm click. “Now
that,
I’m certain, isn’t proper at all!”

Hugh stared into Artemis’s single eye and refused to give ground. To cave in to a servant . . . Why, the thought was abominable!

“Listen, old chap,” he said curtly. “’Tis a simple enough question.”

Artemis set his hands on his hips. “And one ye need be askin’ ’er Grace!”

“You answer the door, for Christ’s sake! You know as well as anyone if Lord Glenmoore comes calling here.”

“O’ course I know! Doesn’t mean I’ll be tellin’ you!” The bulbous eye protruded further as the butler narrowed his gaze. “You can ask from ’ere to perdition, gov’na, and I—”

“Hang it all!! The proper address for a peer is ‘my lord.’ Is that so bloody difficult?”

Artemis gasped. “’Ere now! Are ye complainin’ ’bout the way I perform my duties?”

“Complaining?” Hugh snorted. “Good God, I’m astounded. Amazed. Stunned.”

Artemis nodded in agreement. “And so you should be, gov’na.”

“’Tis not every day one finds service of your caliber,” Hugh muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“Are ye bein’ sarcastic?” Artemis asked suspiciously.

“Who, me? Never.”

“What are you two arguing about?” Charlotte asked as she descended the staircase. Dressed in soft floral muslin that was a few seasons out of style, she looked fresh and young, a vision of ripe innocence that belied her sensual past.

“You can ask
’er
!” The butler turned to leave without being dismissed. “A man shouldn’t ’ave to deal with this sort of treatment in ’is place of employment,” he grumbled as he shuffled away.

Hugh gaped after him.

Charlotte laughed, a raw, husky sound that made his cock hard.

Damnation
! He scowled. He couldn’t go around sporting a constant erection, which is precisely what he’d been doing since he arrived.

Coming to a stop before him, she brushed his frown away with the soft touch of her fingers. “Artemis is a good man, and whatever you asked, you shouldn’t have asked him. You know as well as I that no respectable upper servants would ever divulge information about their employers.”

Not accustomed to admitting he was wrong, Hugh stewed for a moment before nodding.

Charlotte’s green eyes sparkled with amusement. “Now, what did you want to ask?”

Hugh released a deep breath. “I’d like to know if Glenmoore still comes to visit you.”

A dark red brow rose. “In what capacity?”

He snorted. “In any capacity.”

“He stops by occasionally,” she said carefully. “But I no longer share my bed with him, if that is what you’re inquiring.”

The relief that flooded him was profound and, because of that, disturbing. “Why does he come, then?”

“I suspect he simply wishes to assure himself that the duchess remains here and poses no threat to his precious reputation.” She laced her arm with his and steered him toward the drawing room, where tempting aromas made his stomach growl. He was ravenously hungry, and once they were seated, he tucked into the delectable meal with gusto. Consisting of kidney and eggs, honey cakes and plum cakes, the food was delicious. Despite the rather frightening specter the cook presented, Hugh had no trouble admitting that her talent in the kitchen was impressive. She was much better than the resident chef at Montrose Hall.

When Katie came in a few moments later, bearing a pitcher of wildly sloshing water and favoring a bandaged hand, he simply smiled, unalarmed. Everything seemed different today. The candlelight that bolstered the dreary morning light seemed more golden, the food more appetizing, Charlotte more beautiful.

Suspecting it was contentment he was feeling, Hugh grinned, savoring the moment. He wanted to feel this way more often, and he knew Charlotte was the cause. Therefore a stratagem was required to convince his lover that having him around could benefit her in more ways than orgasms. Since she’d provided the solution already, he had only to take advantage of it.

“You’re in a fine mood,” Charlotte noted, smiling against the rim of her cup. Hugh La Coeur was also in fine form. Dressed in warm shades of brown, he made her mouth water, the handsomeness of his features intensified by a boyish smile.

“I am. More’s the pity for you.” He waggled his brows suggestively.

She laughed. “A girl could become accustomed to having you around.”

“I hope you do.” He pushed away his empty plate and stood, moving to her chair. “Shall we retire to my room and study your map?”

Charlotte rose, a sharp tingle of awareness coursing through her veins. She glanced at Hugh over her shoulder and batted her lashes. “I thought studying the map came later?” Her eyes dropped to his trousers, and she watched, fascinated, as his cock swelled before her eyes.

“Stop that.” He grabbed her elbow and led her to the stairs.

“Stop what?” she asked innocently, biting back a smile.

“You know very well what,” he said, his voice a slow drawl that made her toes curl in her slippers. “Drooling while staring at my cock.”

“I did no such thing!” she protested, choking back a giggle as they ascended the stairs.

He shot her an arch glance. “You did, too, insatiable minx. A man can hardly get any rest around here.”

She choked. “Horrid man! You wouldn’t leave me alone. How many times did I roll over and attempt sleep?”

“Several,” he said smoothly. “But it wasn’t long before you reached for me again.”

Charlotte paused on the middle stair. “Only because your erection was poking me in the spine!”

Hugh shrugged in exquisite nonchalance. “You were wiggling.”

She stared at him, fighting back laughter, her entire body warming to the sensual amusement she found in his dark gaze. He was so devastatingly handsome, full of vigor and mischief. He was a man who lived life, while she’d spent the last few years in a daze. She was drawn to that energy, to that zest, wanting to absorb the thrill of it into the marrow of her bones.

Unable to help herself, she stepped forward and offered him her mouth. With a deep groan, he obliged, gifting her with one of his sensual kisses. Charlotte melted against him, her hands drifting to clutch the powerful muscles of his shoulders.

“See?” he murmured, licking her parted lips. “You are doing it again.”

Achingly aroused, she laughed breathlessly. “You’re a conceited rake.”

“And you’re a brazen wench.” His hands cupped her breasts, teasing her hardened nipples.

She pulled back with a grin. “You like that I am.”

Hugh leaned back against the railing and crossed his arms. “I quite like that you are,” he agreed. “Now would you like to go over your map?”

Charlotte considered him for a moment, from head to toe. He was fully, impressively aroused, and she was obviously willing, but he wanted to study the blasted map? She chewed her lower lip.

“Think you can keep your hands to yourself?” he prodded.

She narrowed her eyes, enjoying the game. “Can you?”

He grinned. “Shall we see who can hold out the longest?”

“A wager?” She rubbed her hands together. “Certainly.”

“What are the stakes?”

“The stakes?”

“There has to be something in it for the victor. ’Tis the possibility of winning something that drives a man to gamble.”

“A tumble isn’t enough?”

“I had intended that to be
my
prize,” he said with a pout.

She laughed. “You can always choose the same.”

A dark gold brow rose. “Ah, but my gain must be greater than yours, or your loss more than mine, to make it truly a wager.”

“You appear to know a great deal about gambling,” Charlotte noted.

“I’ve had some experience,” he said smoothly. “So if you are able to keep your hands to yourself for longer than I, you shall win a hot, sweaty tumble. I, however, want a boon.”

She frowned. “What sort of boon?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“You’re cheating!”

“I am not. Of course, you can always forfeit now and save us both the trouble . . .” He dropped his arms and stepped closer, enveloping her with his scent and potent masculinity.

“Oh, no. I won’t forfeit. I shall win.”

He gripped her elbow and then gestured up the stairs with his other hand. “Excellent. Let’s begin.”

Her heart racing with excitement, Charlotte moved with Hugh up the staircase and to his room, her mind industriously considering all the avenues she could take to ensure her victory. The first thing she did upon entering his chamber was move to the fireplace and throw on more coal.

“What the devil are you doing?” he asked. “It’s plenty warm in here.”

“Truly? I feel a chill.”

Hugh shrugged out of his coat. “If you want me naked, you have only to ask.”

“I thought I had. You wanted to look at the map instead.”

He shot her a mock glare, and Charlotte laughed. She hadn’t had this much fun in ages.

No, that wasn’t true. She hadn’t had
any
fun in ages.

After removing his waistcoat and cravat, Hugh moved to the desk and bent over the map. “Can you bring me everything you have that pertains to this?”

“Of course.” Charlotte left the room with a plan and returned a quarter of an hour later with her first salvo ready to fire.

Gliding back into Hugh’s suite with a wide grin, she paused just inside the doorway, arrested by the sight of his bare back. He’d removed his shirt and shoes, the corded muscles of his shoulders bunching as he leaned his weight on his arms, his skin covered with a fine sheen of perspiration from the warmth of the fire. She sighed, thinking she could simply stare at him for days.

Without turning around, he said, “Drooling again?”

“You are the most conceited man,” she muttered. She reached the desk and dropped the books with a loud thump. He lifted his gaze to look at her.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed, taking in the black negligee she wore. Held up with ribbons at the shoulders and completely sheer, it was an erotic confection she’d had for years and never donned before. The gown flowed with her, changing opacity, teasing the eye with glimpses of her nipples and the curve of her waist.

Charlotte brushed her fingertips across his full lips. “Careful, darling. You’ll drool.”

His brows snapped together. “Cheaters never win,” he growled.

“I’m not cheating.”

His scowl clearly refuted her. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve gathered so far, so I don’t waste time pointing out things you may already know.”

Shaking her head, she wondered why he was so determined to keep them out of bed and focused on the map. With any other man she might consider the possibility that the map interested him more than she did, but with Hugh she knew that wasn’t true. He wouldn’t be so frustrated if he weren’t fighting the temptation she presented. Something was afoot, and if she wished to discover what it was, she’d have to play along.

Pulling the books closer, she grabbed the slender journal from the top and opened it. “According to Glenmoore, he won this map in a wager while traveling through the Caribbean. He dismissed it as nothing more than a souvenir, until he was approached by a local man who swore he was among the crew that originally hid the treasure.”

Hugh stared at her with his intense dark eyes. “What exactly is this treasure?”

“Glenmoore was never able to discover the answer to that with certainty. There were two tales. The simple one was pirate’s gold. The other featured a love story.”

“A love story?” he asked skeptically.

Nodding, Charlotte turned the pages of Glenmoore’s journal until she found a worn piece of paper tucked inside. Upon opening it, a lovely female visage appeared. “Her name was Anne,” she explained. “According to the story Glenmoore heard, she fled an unhappy marriage to sail the high seas with a pirate named Calico Jack. They were together for a time, but Jack was eventually caught and hanged. It is said that Anne, who was pregnant when he was killed, fled the authorities and hid his ill-gotten gains.”

Hugh rubbed the back of his neck. The pose emphasized his powerful arms and beautifully built chest. She licked her lips.

Good heavens, she
was
going to drool.

“Charlotte, don’t you think—” He raised his eyes from the map and met hers. Then he groaned. “How in damnation is a man to concentrate on anything when you dress in that manner and look at him thusly?”

“Why are you so interested in the map all of a sudden?”

Reaching down, he stroked his erection through his broadcloth trousers. “I’d like to be useful to you for things other than sex.”

Charlotte blinked, then moved to a nearby chair and sat down. All thoughts of seduction and winning their amorous bet left her head. “You’d like to be useful,” she repeated softly, awed by the statement. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had a man say that to me before.”

“Yes, well, I, for one, have never said such a thing before,” he grumbled. “Being wanted for simple fornication has its decided benefits. And giving in to such demands is certainly less painful to a man’s genitals. I blame the water hereabouts for this madness.”

He scrubbed a hand across his face before pulling the journal closer. “Do you truly believe in this treasure nonsense?”

She watched him studying the journal, obviously sexually frustrated and yet determined to find a way to be valuable to her, and her heart softened. What an odd man he was. She couldn’t puzzle him out, but then, what did it matter? She felt alive and appreciated, and this man was the cause.

“Charlotte?” He glanced at her and muttered an oath under his breath. “Do you intend to assist me with this or not?”

“I forfeit.” She’d never done such a thing in her life. Cursed (or blessed, depending on how one looked at it) with a competitive nature she took every challenge seriously.