Seducing Mr Storm (5 page)

Chapter Eight

In the war against Elijah Storm, Susanna declared that she had won this round. Although she hadn’t intended to be caught by him and spanked soundly, nor driven to an orgasm against her will using her most taboo hole, nonetheless,
she
had climaxed, and
he
hadn’t. Just like last time. As far as she was concerned, his balls must be near blue by now. She grinned to herself as she lay on her bed later that day, lingering on the scene in her mind. Nonetheless, she hadn’t achieved her intended aim – the withdrawal of his proposal and the transfer of his affections to Lucy. She would have to accept that, sadly, her sister was not going to gain a husband out of this wild man. It was for the best.

What she needed was to get rid of Mr Storm once and for all and empty her heart and body of his presence. She hit upon a plan. She would take Lucy to London to stay with their Aunt Georgina and there woo the most eligible of men.

Her mother offered barely a protest, confined to her room in mourning. They set off a week later, Lucy sullen by her side but coming to accept after long explanations that Susanna had not sought Mr Storm’s attentions and did not intend to usurp Lucy in his affections.

By the time they stopped at an inn for supper, Lucy was positively excited about their upcoming visit and the chance to meet so many eligible bachelors. Susanna was less so. The cold knot below her ribs told her she pined for Elijah in the most shameful of ways. This could not go on. She would have to lose herself in merriment and flirting for the duration of their trip.

They arrived next day and Georgina, their mother’s sister, greeted them effusively at the door of her townhouse. Never married, she had a certain reputation with Elizabeth – flighty, flirtatious, and fond of dangerous assignations. Susanna suspected Elizabeth’s disapproval was based on envy. It seemed to her that Georgina lived the most exciting and free of lives – no one to answer to, no one to please but herself. Why would every woman not want that? Perhaps Susanna could have it too. Maybe her father would be willing to set her up in a small house near to her aunt and she could embark on the same sort of thrilling life as Georgina. But Mr Storm crept into her thoughts again. If he married someone else, it would kill her, she knew.

The first night was a dance at the stunning mansion of an acquaintance of Georgina’s. Mr Craig was a silver-haired bachelor in his 50s and was so delighted to see her aunt that Susanna wondered about the true nature of their friendship. Susanna and Lucy danced all night, wooed by a succession of rich, titled men, and Lucy came away breathless, eyes shining, clearly having forgotten all about Mr Storm.

Susanna, however, had not. She compared them all to Elijah and found them wanting. Angrily she argued with her subconscious. What exactly was there to admire about this man? His sardonic nature? His wanton sexuality? Or the way he looked when his erection was deep in her mouth and he trembled on the brink of climax? She shook when she thought about it. A certain kind of vulnerability had been revealed that night. A chink in his armour. Instead of exploiting it, she had allowed him to take the upper hand once more. But there was no denying she preferred it that way. Being mastered by him.

The next day, Lucy and Georgina both pleaded headaches so Susanna took the carriage into town alone. Too much wine, she knew, and while her own head was delicate, it wasn’t enough to keep her to her bed. Plenty of fluids and fresh air would do the trick. She wandered the squalid streets of London, looking in shops, giving coins to beggars and street urchins. She bought her mother and father trinkets although she wasn’t sure her mother deserved a present.

As the carriage rumbled along the uneven street, Susanna glanced into an alleyway and was startled by what she saw. A woman who must have been in her 60s trying to fight off two ragamuffins, intent on grabbing her bag and rifling through her pockets.

‘Stop!’ she cried to the driver, rapping the underside of the carriage with her umbrella. The horses lurched to a halt at his bidding and she jumped down at the mouth of the alley. Making a terrific noise and holding her umbrella like a weapon, she charged into the chaos with more courage than she really felt, her heart hammering. By this time the woman was on her knees and the boys had taken a small, drawstring bag from her. They scampered away at Susanna’s approach.

Susanna crouched and looked at the badly shaken woman. Her bonnet was gone and her carefully coiffured grey hair fell loose over her face. She was attractive, but looked unwell, with dark circles under her eyes, her skin tinted a waxy colour.

‘Let me help you,’ Susanna said, placing a hand under the trembling woman’s elbow just as Georgina’s carriage driver arrived on the other side.

The woman glanced up, fixing pale blue eyes on her. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured in a soft expiration.

‘We’ll take you home,’ Susanna said, and the driver lifted the frail woman into his arms and carried her from the alleyway.

The woman dozed, seemingly exhausted, all the way back to a smart Chelsea townhouse. The driver lifted her down from the cushions, and Susanna hurried to the door and rapped.

The liveried butler who answered gaped at them and stood back at once, allowing admission. ‘Mistress,’ he said, wringing his hands. ‘What has happened?’

‘She was set upon by some boys,’ Susanna explained.

‘Shall I go upstairs?’ asked the driver.

‘Yes,’ Susanna directed, ‘and fetch the doctor,’ she told the butler.

The man scurried off and Susanna ascended behind the driver. He carried her into a woman’s bedchamber and laid her down on the bed. A fire burned cheerily in the grate as Susanna bent and removed the woman’s shoes before pulling up the quilt from the foot of the bed, covering her to her neck.

The woman blinked sleepily at her, reached for Susanna’s hand. ‘Thank you to you both.’

Susanna pulled up a chair. She held the woman’s hand and stroked it with her other while the driver hovered by the fire.

‘Do you want to leave me here?’ she asked. ‘I’ll wait until the doctor comes and send a note for you to bring me back.’

He inclined his head. ‘Very well, miss.’

When he had gone, the room was silent save for the crackling of logs in the hearth and the soft, sighing breath of the woman in the bed. Susanna sat content to hold her hand as the woman slipped into slumber. As her eyes grew heavy in the soporific heat, a commotion downstairs roused her, voices raised before thundering boots sounded on the stairs.

Susanna braced herself for the anxiety and upset of a concerned relative as the door burst open. She almost reeled back in her chair when confronted with Elijah Storm.

He saw her instantly, his face turning from grief and worry to startled surprise. Then his attention switched rapidly to the woman in the bed, and Susanna hurriedly pushed her chair back as he stalked around the foot of the four-poster.

‘Mother,’ he said, reaching for the woman’s hand, and Susanna wondered then why she hadn’t seen it before. The woman’s attractive face carried more than a hint of her son’s beauty.

‘It’s all right, Elijah,’ Mrs Storm murmured softly. ‘I have been in good hands.’

Elijah turned his crystal blue gaze on Susanna and she blushed, hands twisted together, awed by him as she usually was.

A sharp knock sounded at the door, and Elijah called admittance. He strode quickly to greet the small, efficient looking man with the medical bag. ‘Doctor Tully, thank you for coming.’

The doctor nodded, approaching the patient. ‘Mrs Storm,’ he said, and the patient reached out for his hand with a tired smile, obviously on good terms with the man.

Elijah gestured to Susanna and she hurried to the door with him behind her. He closed the door and instantly had her hemmed in against the wall.

‘Miss Seymour,’ he said, his eyes large with sorrow and ardour. ‘I have no words to express my gratitude.’

She lifted a hand, attempting to wave away his thanks with embarrassment. He came closer, looking down at her intently beneath the rim of her bonnet. ‘My mother has been unwell, as you know, and a shock such as today could set back her recovery significantly. If you hadn’t acted so quickly …’

‘I was merely in the right place,’ she said, stifling a sigh as Elijah cupped the back of her neck with gentle fingers.

‘It was more than that,’ he said, staring deeply into her eyes, his voice a low, warm caress. ‘You are a woman of courage and fire. You care enough to help a stranger on the street regardless of your own peril.’ He paused, took a deep breath. ‘You are the woman I want by my side. To make me complete.’

Susanna swallowed, her palms damp, her eyes abruptly dewing. ‘Mr Storm,’ she said, but the words deserted her because she didn’t know what she wanted to say.

Elijah lowered his head. His lips brushed hers like the kiss of a butterfly’s wings before he drew back. Clearing his throat, he said, ‘My driver will take you home.’

Her legs trembling, Susanna moved to the head of the stairs. Elijah stepped up behind her, touching her waist with fleeting fingers. ‘I hope to see you again while you are in London,’ he said against her ear.

Susanna didn’t reply. She descended the steps and was greeted again by the butler, who offered her refreshments. She refused and asked to be taken home. As he showed her out to the carriage, she looked up and saw Elijah at the top of the stairs, watching her.

When she got home, Susanna was in a state of nervous excitement. Making sure Lucy was out of the way, she confessed about Elijah to her aunt and what had happened with his mother that afternoon. Georgina sat watching her with gleaming eyes like a cat, and admitted that Elizabeth had sent a letter with Lucy describing the Seymours’ scandalous new neighbour and how he had broken Lucy’s heart in favour of Susanna.

‘She had nothing nice to say about Mr Storm other than a comment on the size of his purse,’ she said, lifting a handkerchief to her face to hide a smirk.

Susanna felt herself blush a little. ‘Mr Storm has many fine attributes,’ she said.

‘Does he really?’ Georgina pulled her chair closer. ‘Do tell all.’

‘Aunt, really.’

‘Oh stuff,’ Georgina said airily. ‘Are we not both women of the world? The way you talk about this Mr Storm tells me you have been intimate with him in some fashion.’

Susanna stared. ‘Aunt, you mustn’t tell my mother.’

Georgina snorted. ‘I thought you knew me better than that, Susanna. Am I not to be your confidante and your advisor when it comes to the tricky subject of men?’

Susanna glanced around as though the walls had ears. ‘Well, aunt, the second time I saw him, I caught him engaged in the most intimate behaviour on our land …’

Chapter Nine

The sisters’ stay in London continued in a whirlwind of parties courtesy of their aunt, but Susanna was maudlin. She couldn’t forget the intensity in Elijah’s eyes when he had said those words about her making him complete. She swung between swearing him off for good and running to his side to take back her refusal of his proposal. She suspected it still stood, that he waited for her to change her mind, but just how long would he wait before his head was turned and another woman claimed him? Men like Elijah Storm came along once in a lifetime, Susanna was sure of that.

The final party of their stay was at a mansion in the Surrey countryside that belonged to an old friend of Georgina’s. The three women were ensconced in rooms for the evening on their arrival and, on their descent, were greeted by Lady Yvette Mario and her husband, Thomas. Georgina had murmured something salacious about her relationship with Yvette and Thomas in the carriage on the way there and Susanna wondered if she had misheard.

The house bustled with finely dressed guests, ladies dripping in jewels and men in their smartest frock coats and cravats. Waiters in livery moved smoothly between the bodies with trays of champagne and canapés. Lucy gaped around her with wide eyes while Susanna was more subtle, demurely watching men from beneath her lashes. She wore a new gown of white silk with a broad black sash and intricate corsetry at the back. Lucy was radiant in sapphire blue.

The three women chatted with some of Georgina’s friends before moving into the grand ballroom and taking a table near the floor. Georgina tossed back champagne like it was going out of style and Susanna felt a little tipsy too, despite trying to keep her self-control. Lucy chattered excitedly about a man in uniform watching her and then she gave a gasp, put her hand over her mouth. Susanna followed her gaze.

Standing with a blond-haired man against the wall, wearing black and white evening attire, was Elijah Storm. Susanna’s heart leapt and thudded wildly against her ribs as Elijah spotted her and leant close to his companion’s ear to say something above the music.

‘That blackguard,’ Lucy said darkly as Elijah pushed himself lazily off the wall and strolled around the edge of the dance floor like a nonchalant cat stalking its prey.

‘Hush, Lucy,’ Susanna scolded. ‘There is no need for rudeness.’

‘Just because Mr Storm has you by your heart, or indeed other parts, is no reason for me to like him,’ Lucy replied snottily.

Susanna kicked her hard under the table. Lucy gave a little cry and sank miserably into her chair.

Elijah reached the table. He regarded the three ladies with blue eyes dazzlingly bright. ‘Miss Seymour and Miss Seymour.’ He bowed low.

‘Mr Storm,’ Susanna said with a coolness she didn’t feel. ‘If I may present my Aunt Georgina.’

Georgina held out a hand eagerly, all heaving bosom and fluttering lashes, and Elijah smiled and took it, barely sweeping her knuckles with his lips. ‘Charmed.’

There was an uncomfortable silence as Elijah stood looking at Susanna like there was no one else in the room.

‘Mr Storm,’ Georgina piped up. ‘Why don’t you put us all out of our misery and ask Susanna to dance?’

Elijah gave a rueful, almost shy grin. ‘Miss Seymour.’ He held his hand out. ‘May I have this dance?’

Susanna rose to her feet, gathering her skirts. ‘You may, Mr Storm.’

His large hand closed around hers, palm warm and intimate. He led her to the dance floor on quaking legs while she asked herself if this had been the best idea.

Elijah wrapped a firm arm around her waist and pulled her close to his hard body. He swept her expertly around the floor to a fast waltz.

‘How is your mother?’ Susanna asked nervously.

‘Much recovered, thank you,’ he replied, looking down into her eyes from his lofty height. ‘I’m not sure I expressed my gratitude adequately enough last time …’

Susanna regarded him questioningly. Was he serious? She remembered the ardent, eloquent thanks and praise he had bestowed on her. She searched his stunning eyes and found both tenderness and passion. She shook her head.

‘I’m persona non grata with your family now,’ he observed.

Thrown by the sudden change of subject, she fumbled for words. ‘It has been a difficult time. Lucy has accepted your lack of interest and moved on. As for my mother –’ Susanna sighed. ‘Time will heal her troubles.’

‘She would no more have me in the family now than Lucifer himself,’ Elijah suggested.

‘And you once suggested you’d rather wed a plump-bottomed stable hand than marry into my family,’ she said smartly.

Elijah grinned, his pearly teeth blinding. ‘Surely it’s a man’s prerogative to change his mind?’

‘No, it’s a woman’s.’

Elijah dipped her low and almost dropped her, pulling her upright with the blood rushing to her head. She clung to his neck, glaring.

He smiled again. He lowered his voice to a seductive murmur with his lips pressed right against her ear. ‘Having already proved yourself my match, I am hoping you will now admit that
I
am
your
match, sweet Susanna.’

She stared up into his mesmerising eyes with her skin tingling all over and her body ablaze with passion for him. She swallowed, afraid of the words that wanted to spill out. And then the dance ended and he strode off the dance floor, tugging her after him. Mindless of the people who saw them go, he led her out onto a misty, cold balcony, and there descended steps into the dark garden.

Susanna hurried to keep up with the strides from his long legs. When she shivered, he stripped off his frock coat hurriedly and wrapped it around her shoulders. He steered her into a maze of trees, pressing her up against the massive trunk of a beech.

‘Susanna,’ he said softly, cupping her cheek. ‘You’re going to drive me out of my mind with desire.’

She trembled, lifting her chin with determination, aware of the silent solitude of the garden. Would she really be able to stop any nefarious plans on his part and, more to the point, did she want to? ‘As I’ve probably already said, Mr Storm, you think with your prick.’

His expression darkened. He pressed her closer against the rough bark, his hard cock jutting into her hip. ‘Nay,’ he said. ‘When it comes to you, I think with both my prick and my heart. The two are entangled. I want you in all ways. Not just the bedroom.’ In the darkness, the fire in his eyes was subdued, but she knew it was there.

She licked her lips nervously and immediately he swooped in, devouring her, his mouth soft and seeking. She opened her lips with a sigh, found his tongue and they stood lip-locked against the tree, his body sinking into hers, moulding her curves to his. She slid her arms around his neck. He scooped her closer, lifting her under her backside, grinding against her, and she gasped, gown constricting her desperately when she wanted nothing more than to be bared to him. His hand found her breast, squeezed through her corset, her nipple standing stiff before it was touched.

He drew back suddenly, letting her slide down the tree. Before she could react, Elijah had slipped to one knee and was fumbling in the pocket of the frock coat that lay discarded on the ground.

‘Susanna, I beseech you,’ he said as he opened a small box to reveal a ring which sparked like fire under the pale moonlight.

Susanna’s jaw dropped. She looked from the ring, to his eyes, and back again. ‘Elijah,’ she said softly and she saw by his triumphant look that he knew her answer before she did.

He took her hand in a palm that was damp and unsteady, and slipped the ring onto her finger. ‘Marry me,’ he said urgently.

She touched the soft contour of his cheek and was suddenly sure. ‘Yes,’ she said.

Elijah rose swiftly to his feet. He lifted her, laughing, off the ground and into his arms and held her close, face pressed into her cleavage.