Sinful Possession (6 page)

Lila was not sure what she’d expected of Stourbridge
house—and the owner—but it hadn’t been this. As she sat on the bed in her
luxurious room, she twined her hands into her slightly crumpled skirts and
debated the afternoon. She’d heard about there being a madam at Stourbridge,
but Harris had confided Anna was indeed the owner of the house. The ladies’
columns made the assumption the owner was some mysterious wealthy lord who did
not wish to have his good name tarnished. But Anna had purchased the house with
some inheritance and created this den of vice. What sort of a woman would want
to do that? It really was beyond Lila’s imagination.

But society could be cruel.
The expectations weighed heavily on one’s shoulders, and she hated to imagine
what it must be like to let everyone down. Lord, she hoped she did not. Even
after all this, she still needed to marry someone respectable and wealthy. What
if this ruined her completely? Would they accept that Ash had taken her against
her will? And did she even want him to take the blame for this?

She flicked a glance up at
one of the paintings on the wall. The sensual theme of the house continued—albeit
in a tasteful manner. She did not think she’d ever had quite such an education
in the human body and well...sex. Her mother had been quite graphic, but it was
all very well simply hearing about it. She’d seen horses do it, but she knew
well enough animals were different from humans.

She had not expected,
however, all the...entwining. Legs and arms everywhere. Perhaps it was
scandalous of her but she couldn’t resist eyeing the statues and taking in
their expressions of ecstasy.

Would it really be like
that? From what her mother had said, she’d thought sex consisted of a few delicate
kisses and a man on top of her. But these statues portrayed something entirely
different. At present she really did feel a country bumpkin.

And hot. So very hot. Images
of naked bodies, writhing together skipped through her mind. She needed to think
of something dull.

Chess. Yes, she loathed
chess. Uncle Bernard loved to play chess and could be counted on to play at the
slowest pace possible, contemplating each move with utter care. Of course, she
was too impatient and always lost but rather that than be bored to death.

Skin. Bodies.

Ash Cynfell.

She tightened her grip on
her skirt and puffed a breath up over her face. This would not do. This wasn’t
how well-bred ladies in search of a husband behaved. If only he had not grabbed
her like that and held her close. She’d been all too aware of the heat and strength
of his body and now every man on the statue was replaced with an image of him.
Would his muscles by carved like them? Would his—

“No!” She stood. No more,
she couldn’t—

The door burst open, and Ash
and Harris barrelled in, almost knocking into one another.

“Is all well?” they asked together.

“Yes, of course.”

“We heard you shout,” Ash
explained.

Lila shook her head while
heat surged into her face. What could she say? That she had been trying to talk
herself out of imagining him naked?

“I do not believe I did.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “What were you doing anyway? Lying in wait
outside my room?”

“Just trying to make sure
you’re safe,” Ash grumbled.

“I thought you were getting
changed.” Harris lifted the gown she’d been kindly provided with. “Red. My
favourite.” He winked at her.

“Not
my
favourite,”
she muttered.

The gown was decent enough.
She’d feared they’d try to lend her some scandalously low cut and tight dress
but thankfully it was as tasteful as her bedroom furnishings. That said, red
really was not her colour. “Young ladies should wear pastel colours. Darker
colours are for older women.”

“Pish,” Harris declared. “Young
ladies look fine indeed in dark colours.”

“I think you look very fine
in pastels,” Ash said quietly, averting his gaze from them both and moving to
the window to peer out.

It might have been a small
compliment, but it warmed her heart a little.

Ash turned back. “Dinner
shall be brought up to you shortly. I do not advise you leave your room.”

Lila had been torn between
wanting to explore the house and hiding away forever. Apparently that decision
had been made for her. And she didn’t like it one bit. “And if I am to stay
here for a long time. Am I to remain forever locked in this room?”

“Stourbridge has a wireless
system. I’ll send word to our brothers of the situation,” Ash told her, coming
close and eyeing her through that intense gaze that made her insides shrivel at
the same time as dance with excitement. “Between them, I have no doubt they’ll
dig up some evidence connecting Newton to the murders.”

“So I simply wait until your
brothers have finished playing investigators?”

Ash’s scowl deepened.

Harris pushed a hand through
his hair and offered a grin. “If you would like me to escort you around the
house, it would be my honour to protect you from all the blackguards.”

Ash released an odd sound,
and Lila darted her attention to him. She could have sworn she heard his teeth
grind as he glared at his brother.

“Who is to protect me from
you?” she asked with a sly smile.

“Who says you want
protection?” Harris’ grin grew flirtatious.

“I’ll show you around,” Ash
declared.

“I was only jest—”

“Harris, why do you not find
out about supper?”

“But—”

“Harris,” Ash snapped.

His brother shook his head
and muttered something about
idiot brothers
before ambling out.

“There was no need to be so
rude,” she scolded.

Ash scowled. “He’s a flirt
and a blackguard. He needs to watch his tongue.”

“He’s your brother! I’m not
sure you should talk of him that way.”

He looked suitably
chastened. Lila could not fathom it. Harris was harmless and charming. She
understood that he likely flirted with every female in the vicinity under
eighty. Perhaps even those who were older. It was simply the way he was. She
would have thought Ash was well used to it by now. How odd these two were that
they were so different.

And so alike in looks. Yet
she never confused them. There was no doubting those fathomless eyes and
creased brow.

“I should dress before
supper,” she declared when his unnerving gaze remained on her.

He stared at her quite a bit,
she realised. While she had noticed it before, she had not thought much of it.
As a new lady in town, being stared at was something she had grown used to. But
no one looked at her like Ash did. It was as though he was trying to figure out
the riddle of her and yet she never thought herself as a riddle. She was who
she was—though perhaps a slightly more refined version.

Although refined was possibly
the wrong word for her behaviour over the past night and day.

He blinked, gave a quick dip
of his head, and strode out, shutting the door behind him so hard that one of
the pictures on the wall rattled. Her stomach bunched, and she realised her
palms were clammy. The image of his deep gaze boring into her lingered. Yet
this was not fear that governed her body. Nor did it feel simply like
attraction. If so, she would feel the same in Harris’ company, surely?

Why did Ash Cynfell unnerve
her so?

Lila picked up the deep red gown
with a sigh and set to work removing her dress. When she was down to her corset
and drawers, she gave a groan. She wasn’t used to dressing herself and this new
gown had lacing down the back. It had not even occurred to her to ask about
help. Presumably one of the, um, women could help her.

She wasn’t sure she even
wanted to ask. What would they be like? Would they laugh at her for her
inexperience? Mock her for being so out of place here?

Drawing in a long breath,
she straightened her shoulders and pushed aside any notion of feeling sorry for
herself. It could be so much worse. She could be dead, like that poor man. She
could be entertaining Lord Curly Wurly. She shuddered. Somehow being around men
like Ash and Harris had made the idea of spending time with such—what did they
call them?—dry old sticks made her stomach turn. Suddenly, the idea of marrying
a man like that—like any of her potential suitors—held little appeal.

Lila picked up the dress and
stepped into it. Excellent. She pulled up the ruffle sleeves and was grateful
to note her corset worked well with the cut of the gown. She glanced in the
full length mirror by the window and nodded to herself. Yes, red wasn’t so bad.
It made her look a little daring and unlike the innocent she was meant to be,
but it made her hair shine golden and her skin appear delicately flushed.

Now all she needed to do was
decide how to do it up.

Turning her back to the
mirror, she peered over her shoulder. She twisted her arms behind her and
reached for the ties, grimacing as she tried to contort herself. Breath held,
she clumsily began to lace the dress.

She tugged and wrestled. She
fought and wriggled. Eventually she was as red in the face as her dress and
almost breathless. And still not in her gown. Tears threatened to well in the
corner of her eyes, and she swiped them away angrily.

After another attempt, the
tears spilled and, annoyed at herself for being so silly, she kicked out at the
vanity table stool. She screeched. Her toe throbbed. She fell to the floor as
the stool tumbled onto one side and at the same time her door burst open.

Before she could quite
register what had happened, there was a body on top of her.

A hard, very Ash
Cynfell-like body.

She stared up at him through
wide eyes.

“What is it? What happened?
Are you hurt?”

Lila couldn’t even shake her
head.

She opened her mouth but
only a puff of air escaped her. Really, it surprised her there was any air left
in her lungs. Certainly the weight of him constricted her chest, but it was
more the fact he was on top of her.
On. Top. Of. Her
. Oh deary dear.

Lila gulped and stared up at
him. A lock of hair dropped over his forehead, and if she’d been able to move
at all she might have pushed it aside and pressed her fingers over his crinkled
brow.

But as it was, she was
frozen. From shock, from embarrassment, from...excitement. She’d never been so
close to a man.

He cleared his throat but
did not look away. She’d half-expected him to push away from her but, no, they
remained locked in some odd, irrational staring competition. Lila found herself
praying he did not look away. She suspected she could spend many a day looking
into those chocolate eyes.

Finally, after what could
have been hours of being aware of his strong thighs between hers, his heart pounding
through his solid chest against her, she cleared her throat. “Your eyes...chocolate...”
The words—oh the foolish, silly words—came out thin.

Ash’s brows dipped in
confusion.

“They-they’re like
chocolate. I like them,” she muttered shyly.

The scowl vanished. “Yours
are indescribable.”

Indescribable. She liked
that. She’d been told they were the colour of fresh grass, the Scottish hills.
Even likened to a pond, which was a little off-putting. But never before had
she been told that.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Did I harm you?”

Lila shook her head. It was
a little hard to tell being crushed between the floor and him, but as far as
she knew, she was in one piece.

“What happened?” He skimmed
a thumb under her eye, and she realised the tears must still be lingering.

“It’s silly...”

He waited, pinning her down
once more with his gaze.

“I did not want to ask for
help with my gown so I tried to do it myself. I got frustrated and
well...I...had a falling out with the stool.” She waved in the direction of the
offending item of furniture.

“Your gown...” Ash levered
away from her and skimmed his gaze down her body.

She followed his gaze and
came to the realisation that the gown had moved down her body and revealed most
of her corset and chemise. Her breasts were there, thrust up against him in a
manner that looked far too much like one of those sculptures. An astonishing
heat flourished through her, arrowing down between her legs. Those naughty
images were back and too realistic. She felt her cheeks redden.

They both seemed to do an
awful lot of staring. Both at their own bodies and the way they connected and
then at each other. He didn’t move. She couldn’t and did not even wish to. His
eyes flared a little and her body undulated of its own accord as if reaching up
for him. Her breasts pressed against him.

The door crashed open, and
Ash bolted away. Lila scrambled to pull up her gown when Harris stepped into
the room.