To Seduce an Earl (9 page)

She stared up at him with wide, unblinking eyes, her mind twirling with thoughts that clouded her hazel gaze.

He rested his hand on her lower back, right where her vertebrate dipped deliciously into her bottom. She stiffened under his touch, but didn’t move. “And with your back to a wall, you could go lower…” His palm traveled the dip of her back slowly, over the bustle of her gown, the material crinkling with the movement.

She jumped away and suddenly he was alone once more. Blast it!

Without pause, she scurried toward the door. “Wonderful, I think I’ve had enough for now.”

The thought of her leaving annoyed him, made him frantic almost. “Nonsense. Sit.”

His voice came out harsher than he’d intended. She froze at the door. For a moment he thought she would refuse. For a moment he couldn’t breathe.

Then slowly, God help her, she turned.

Chapter 5

She didn’t say a word, merely stared at him. And although her face remained passive, void of smirk or frown, her eyes…her eyes spoke of everything. Weariness, nervousness, and something that made his gut clench…desire. She wanted him; she just didn’t realize it yet.

Her fingers curled into her skirts, bunching the material. Even if they didn’t make love, if she kept wrinkling her gown, others would think they had.

“You do not frighten me,” she lied.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh in exasperation. Never had he met a woman so ridiculous, so brave, so stubborn. She hesitated only a moment, then thrust her shoulders back and with renewed determination made her way toward him. Those lush lips pressed into a firm line. She looked like a soldier marching to war instead of a woman about to be pleasured.

Elegantly, determinedly, she sank into the chair keeping her back perfectly straight. Instead of annoyed or even amused, Alex felt oddly relieved.

He’d spent the night dreaming of her, when he rarely dreamt. Having her here now was like opium to his craving body. He pulled a chair next to hers. If she meant to ignore him, she’d learn her lesson soon enough. Fate had thrown her in his path, had tormented him with thoughts of her lush body. He would not be tortured alone. No, she was in this with him whether she wanted to be or not.

He settled back in his chair, his thigh pressing intimately against her. A warm fire crackled in the hearth, highlighting the soft planes of her face and kissing her with a golden glow. She looked ethereal, almost untouchable and he felt guilty for even thinking about seducing her.

He cleared his throat and his mind of lustful thoughts. “If you’re at a dinner…”

She scooted as far away from him as her chair would allow. “Have you been to many?” she asked, as if trying to draw his attention away from the fact that she was inching toward escape.

He fought his smile as he rested his arm along the back of her chair, his fingers hovering close to her silky strands. He meant to tease her, instead he merely tormented himself with her nearness. How desperately he wanted to stroke her hair. To pull those curls down from the confining pins and see those lustrious auburn waves cascade around her porcelain face. Lord, she had no idea what she was capable of.

“Alex?”

He blinked away his fantasy. “What?”

She tilted her head endearingly to the side and studied him through narrowed, suspicious eyes. “Dinners. Are you…invited to many?”

He smiled fleetingly and looked away. “You’d be surprised.” Although James had always been able to escort Lady Lavender outside the walls of the estate, it was only recently that Alex had been chosen. The woman was finally starting to trust him and he would use that to his advantage when the time was right.
  

“Oh,” Grace whispered.

Did she realize her eyes showed her every thought? If she was truly in love with her earl, the man would be blind not to know. Her mind was spinning. She was wondering what sort of dinner parties he attended. With whom? Who would possibly allow a man like him to enter their home?

“She…she allows you to leave the place then?” A flush spread up her neck. “I noticed the men keeping watch.”

Startled from the moment, he looked away, pulling back from her. It annoyed him that she realized he was in no more than a prison, helpless as an infant. “We mostly visit gaming hells.” Where they were closely guarded. But he didn’t want to talk about his lack of freedom. “Now, if you’re at a dinner party with a tablecloth hiding all from view, it’s amazing what one can accomplish.”

Her lips pressed together, pursed in confusion. “Such as?”

“Such as…” Lord, he was going to find perverse pleasure in the next few moments. He boldly settled his hand on her knee. She jumped, sucking in a sharp breath as if she’d been hit by lightning. Truth was, if he wanted he could have her on her back, panting underneath him. He certainly knew how to seduce a woman. Yet…yet it didn’t feel right for some odd reason.

“A soft touch on the knee, or…” He drew his hand up her thigh and the warm tendrils of lust swirled through his body. The material underhand crinkled, bunching, lifting to reveal her trim ankles clad in…red stockings? He paused, surprised.

Her breath came out in sharp, short pants, drawing his attention back to her face. “I don’t think that’s appropriate…” She pushed his hand away and smoothed her skirts down, hiding those brilliant stockings from view.

Scarlett red stockings. How very particular she was and for some reason, he liked that about her. “Appropriate? My dear, nothing here is appropriate. Give me your foot.”

Her eyes went wide. She looked as if he’d just asked for her virginity. “Pardon?”

“I’m not asking for your first born. Your foot.” He held out his hand, waiting patiently for he knew she’d be too curious to refuse.

“No thank you.”

He almost started laughing. “No thank you?”
 

He was done being charming. Charming didn’t work with Grace, thank God. No more pretense. He reached down and before she could even guess his intentions, wrapped his fingers around her ankle. He pulled her foot upward and spun her around so she faced him. Grace tumbled back into the chair, her mouth falling open. “What are you doing?”

He settled her foot in his lap and started untying the boot laces. “Teaching you, of course. As you asked.”

“I hardly see what feet have to do with seduction,” she snapped, attempting to pull away.

He grasped her ankle firmly in hand and chuckled. “Of course you don’t. But you’ll see soon enough.” He pulled the boot from her foot and stared at that red stocking. It had little black flowers embroidered down the sides, curving over the swell of her calf. Wicked little flowers that taunted him. He wanted to make love to her while she was wearing those exotic stockings, and only the stockings.

“What are you staring at?” she demanded, sounding rather put out.

“Red. Like your hair.” He smiled, amused for some reason. “It’s rather bold of you.”

“No one sees my stockings.” She was frantically clawing at her skirts, attempting to hide the piece of finery, hide her true personality. “And my hair is far from red, thank you very much. It’s brown. Plain brown.”

He tilted his head, watching her for one long moment until she finally sensed his attention and paused her mad dash to secure her modesty. “You, my dear, are an anarchist.”

Her face flushed. “Am not!”

He drew his hand up her calf, his fingers dancing over the flowers. He didn’t look at her, but he could hear her breath come out faster the closer to her knee he traveled. “You are. You pretend to be good, don’t you? But you refuse to conform.”

His fingers paused at her knee. There, just visible beneath the hem of her skirt was a black garter and a brief flash of pale, smooth thigh. He’d seen hundreds of garters and hundreds of smooth thighs. Still, for one breathless moment Alex felt as if he’d been punched in the gut.

She slapped his hand away, jerking him from his thoughts. “They are merely red stockings, you presume too much, Sir.”

He settled back in his chair, she settled back in hers, two pugilists returning to their corners. They merely stared at each other, her foot still resting in his lap. He was pushing her too far, too soon. Yet, couldn’t seem to stop.

“To pretend to know me is not only arrogant, but it’s…”

He pressed his thumbs into the arch of her foot, rubbing, kneading.

“It’s…” She swallowed hard, her face relaxing into soft planes. “Oh my, that does feel good.”

He fought his grin. She looked like a cat ready to curl up and purr. The outside world faded and there remained only the two of them. He could almost imagine a life this way, another life, another time, if he hadn’t left his family. “You were saying?”

She looked up at him with drowsy eyes. “Hmm?”

“Something about my arrogance?”

He released his hold, she merely sat there glaring at him as if it was his fault she’d lost her thoughts. “You may place your foot on the floor now.”

“What?” She glanced at his lap where her foot nestled intimately against his thighs. “Oh.” Red slashed across her high cheekbones. She jumped away, placing both feet firmly to the floor, her toes curling into the carpet.

“If you wish to truly be bold, you might leave your bloomers at home.” He couldn’t quite help himself.

She looked away. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He resisted the urge to grin. “Now, you wear slippers to dinner?”

She nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Easy to slip off and on.”

She slid him a sidelong, suspicious glance. “I suppose.”

“No, you don’t, but you will.” He rested his hand on her knee. Startled, she gasped.

He moved her skirt higher, his fingertips grazed her thigh, there, were the stocking ended and pure skin began. Tiny bumps raised on the skin of her thigh, shivers from his touch. Her body was warm, but he was warmer. He had to resist the urge to shift, resist the urge to tug at the collar of his shirt. Damn, but he never should have kissed her. He never would have known how a kiss could be.
 

She took her plump lower lip between her teeth and stared at his hand. She didn’t move, didn’t seem to breathe. He was getting ahead of himself, losing control when he was always in control. He released her thigh, curling his hand and resting it at his side. His fingertips tingled.

“Lightly, rest your foot atop of mine.”

Her gaze flashed with bewilderment. “That’s the oddest request I’ve ever had. Why?”

He chuckled, her honesty relieving some of the tension he felt. “Do you wish to learn to seduce or not?”

She clutched the edge of her seat, pausing a moment. Lord, she was stubborn. But oddly, he liked that about her. He’d gone too many years with women doing exactly as he asked in the bedchamber. It was bloody nice to have someone not leap to his bidding. At the same time, he wanted her, wanted her to trust him, to touch him. And so he waited, his breath held. Finally, she inched her foot toward his polished shoe. He barely felt the weight, yet the touch sent a whisper of heat swirling up his leg.
 

She sighed. “Fine. If it will land me my earl.”
 

Her words were like a cold dagger slid between his ribs. Her earl. How Alex hated this earl. Hated the man for not having enough sense to know that Grace was a catch without having to do this. But mostly he hated the man because he knew that eventually he would realize how much Grace had to offer. And then…and then Grace would stop coming and he’d go numb again.

“Brilliant,” he said through gritted teeth. “Now, draw it upward.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Your foot.” He raked his fingers through his hair, his patience wearing thin. “Slowly slide your toes under the cuff of my trousers.”

She laughed a throaty chuckle that burst from her full lips. “You can’t be serious.” She thought to laugh at him? His annoyance flared. So sure she knew everything, but the bedchamber was the one place she was clueless.
 

He leaned closer to her. “I’m very serious.”

Her warm breath fanned across his mouth, tempting, taunting. For one insane moment he thought of pressing his lips to hers, of sweeping his tongue inside her mouth in a demanding kiss. She didn’t flinch at his nearness, but keeping her gaze locked to his, she slowly slid her toes under his cuff.

“There.” He smirked. “Was that so difficult?”

She looked bemused. “Truly, that excites a man?”

“Yes, it—”

With a daring quirk of her brow, she wiggled those toes, inching them up the muscle of his calf. Heat shot through his body, coiling tightly around his groin. His finger bit into the arm’s of the chair.
 

The minx watched him intently, like she was a scientist and he her experiment. “How’s that?”

“Yes,” he managed in a strangled whisper. Dear God, he needed to look away, focus on something else, but all he could focus on were her warm toes, sliding seductively down his leg.