Carnal Deceptions (12 page)

name, and she nearly dropped the tray. She realized she’d never heard him raise his voice before. Counting to ten, Tess hoped to slow her pulse. It was important to appear confident or he would never believe she was up to the task of seducing Sloan.

Lord Marcliffe was at the top landing, gripping the railings, scrutinizing her every step up the staircase. He pointed behind him to the open door. “Naked and in my bed. Is that really so difficult to remember?”

“So I’m to languish in your bed with no nourishment?”

“Naked and in my bed,” he repeated, as though she hadn’t spoken.

“Do you know, you sound very much like a barbarian shouting those simplistic phrases?”

She pushed past him into the bedroom and shoved the papers on the desk aside before setting down the tray. The slam of the door jolted through her.

Feeling a little barbaric herself, she didn’t bother with a knife and plunged her scone into the clotted cream. “I’m not taking off this coat until you put some coal on the grate.”

She did not turn around to see how her demand was received, but the sound of coal hitting iron echoed through the room.

Tess felt heat penetrating the thick wool coat though the fire hadn’t taken hold yet. He reached around and slid his hand into one of the pockets. Her breath quickened as he withdrew a slim, velvet box. A card which had also been in the pocket fluttered to the floor. Tess glanced at it as she picked it up. It was a note from Captain Gibbs written on the back of a calling card.

He placed the velvet box on the desk. “Open it.”

A string of diamonds sparkled up at her. It was the loveliest necklace she’d ever seen.

“Beautiful. But why?”

He shrugged. “Jewelry makes the mistress.”

Tess fastened the diamonds around her neck. The stones felt cool against her skin. “I see. These will give me some legitimacy with Sloan.” She instantly knew that her comment had angered him.

“Take off the coat.” His tone had returned to the cold one he’d used the night before.

She saw no point in disobeying him. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the tie at her waist. “You can stop growling at me. I will not be intimidated.”

She slipped the coat from her shoulders, folded it carefully and placed it atop the divan. Shyly, she lifted her eyes. The look he gave her was so intense, so possessive that she found it hard to breathe. The diamonds draped around her neck made her feel decadent, and her naked skin tingled.

She plucked the calling card from the desk. “I see from Captain Gibbs’s note that you may expect him today. Have you changed your mind? Will he be given the dubious honor of being my protector?”

“Would you rather fuck Gibbs?”

She could feel the color drain from her face. “That would be fine.” He cocked a brow in question. “Is that why you look ready to cry?”

Damn her trembling chin, always a dead giveaway that tears were on their way. “For your information, I am not about to cry. And any woman would be honored to be escorted by someone as
kind
as Captain Gibbs.”

“
Escorted
. Is that a euphemism Mrs. Midwinter taught you?” He twitched the card from her grasp and tossed it away. “So you don’t think I am kind? I gave you an expensive necklace.”

“If you are so impressed by it, then why don’t you wear it?”

He reached for her and her nipples puckered in anticipation, but he only picked up one of the gems and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “You seem to be getting more pleasure out of these jewels than you profess.” The surly half smile on his lips made it clear he was aware her body’s response was due not to the necklace, but to him.

Determined to shock him out of his cockiness, she dipped her finger into the honeyed cream and settled herself on the divan. Tess pillowed her head on the folded black coat then swirled the cream around her erect nipple.

His fierce gaze nearly made her lose her nerve.

“Lydia says that men enjoy dessert.” Proud of her audacious behavior, she coated her other nipple.

With three fingers he scooped a generous dollop of the cream. “I know Lydia did not neglect to mention that the cream should go here as well.” He transferred it to her fingers and nudged her knees apart. She let them fall wantonly open. Gently, he manipulated her hand, causing her to stroke the cream into her slit. A scintillating sensation crawled up her naked back.

An adorable yet cunning smile tipped his lips. She looked up at the wildly handsome man ready to devour her. Miss Midwinter was certainly learned on the subject of men, she thought.

“Really,” she said, “we should just put an end to this particular lesson. It would be easy enough to fake pleasure. Obviously, we’ve proven Lydia’s little trick has merit.” She closed her knees.

He nudged them apart again. “You must stop making a habit of that.” He leaned over and blew gently across her nipple, and instinctively she arched her back toward his mouth.

“I see you have become quite skilled at faking pleasure,” he drawled.

He lowered his head and took the entire areola in his mouth and sucked hungrily. She purred with pleasure as she dug her fingers into his silken black hair, desperate to draw him closer. He moved his mouth to the other breast. When he lifted his head, both nipples were glistening, pink and erect.

“My lord.” Her voice sounded breathy and far away. “No need to go further—” she said, just as one of his long fingers drew through the cream slathering her slit. He brought the cream to his mouth.

“You know how tempted I am by sweet things.” His heavy-lidded eyes were glazed with desire. He dropped to the floor at the foot of the divan and caressed the cream into the pink folds of her sex. Her surroundings blurred as she concentrated only on the exquisitely intimate touch. His head dipped and with an open mouth, he made love to her quim.

She’d never felt anything so wicked in her life as his tongue stroking her hungrily. Moaning softly, she lifted her eager bottom to meet his thrusting tongue. After a sinful series of kisses so deep her body pulsated with pleasure, Tess clutched at the divan and cried out. When she opened her eyes, he was standing over her, staring at her with something akin to fascination.

“You are surprisingly responsive,” he said. “You do hate me. Right?”

“Very much,” she said cheekily and got to her knees. She reached for the fastenings of his pantaloons.

He caught her hands, stilling them. “What are you doing?” “I would think that was obvious.”

“Why are you doing it?”

“A virgin courtesan would not have any credibility.” She punctuated the statement with an unconvincing laugh. She peered up into his beautiful blue eyes and the truth came spilling out. “That’s merely an excuse. I’ve wanted to touch you since I first laid eyes on you. I dream about touching you…tasting you.”

Those were the magic words it seemed because without delay he undid the breeches himself. Daringly, she shoved them off his hips and slid her hand down into his drawers. Her hand wrapped around his thick, hot cock. He threw back his head with a primal groan. His cock throbbed in her hand. She smoothed her hand over the sleek skin to the base, to the crisp black hair and then back again to squeeze the fleshy head in her fist.

“Careful, sweeting, this might lead somewhere you’re not ready for.”

His warning only made her bolder. She tugged the ribbon loose on his drawers and pushed them off as well. She moaned at the sight of his erect cock. It had been imposing in its flaccid state, but now it was dauntingly big. He was so hard everywhere, so completely masculine. She curled both hands around him and pumped.

“Like this,” he instructed and guided her hands with his own, correcting the rhythm and pressure of her strokes. His head was bowed, his black hair falling forward. They both watched as her hands slid over him.

She moved one of her hands to his balls and squeezed as she continued pumping his shaft. “Am I doing this correctly?”

His chest was heaving. “Enough lessons for one day.”

“You’re the teacher.” Reluctantly, she dropped her possessive hold on him, but not before swirling her thumb around the cream on the head of his cock. She brought her thumb to her mouth and painted her bottom lip as though applying rouge.

He groaned, seeming to anticipate her next move. She wanted to taste him, and with enjoyment licked the cream from her lip.

With a rapidness that stole her breath, he scooped her off the divan. She clung to his neck as he swung her around and pressed her against the wall. Instinctively, she straddled his waist.

She rubbed her cheek against the rough stubble of his jaw as she whispered in his ear, “Against the wall just like a waterfront doxy.”

They both stiffened at the sound of the dogs barking and Gibbs trying to shout over the noise of the excited animals.

A sigh shuddered through his entire body. “Damn that bastard. He never knocks.”

With a groan, he set her on her feet. He yanked up his pantaloons, scowling as he adjusted his still-erect cock.

He stalked across the room to the washstand, filled the basin from the pitcher and nearly submerged his head in the water. From his wardrobe, he chose a cutaway coat then looked down at the bulge in his breeches. “No, that isn’t going to work.” He shirked off the cutaway and reached for a frock coat. He buttoned it and combed his fingers through his wet hair.

“Did Lydia coach you to say that to me? To tell me you wanted me?” He regarded her through narrowed eyes.

Still hurt that he hadn’t held her the night before, she decided to leave him guessing and offered only a sly smile in response.

*

“I
knew
she looked familiar.” Gibbs slammed his fist on the end table. “I have a talent for faces. Especially extraordinary ones.”

“Hortensia?” Dunking his head in the chill water hadn’t helped to cool the fever she’d inspired.

“Her name’s not Hortensia. It is Tess. Tess Starling.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” His patience was quickly running short with Gibbs.

“Stop your bloody pacing, and I’ll tell you.” With a smug look on his face, Gibbs sat back, spread his arms across the back of the settee and waited.

Suspicion growing, Tallon stopped mid-stride. “Speak.”

“Do you remember how last spring Lord Kempstone was in a complete lather after spying a particular viscount’s daughter at the Hampton’s ball?”

Everyone that season had been aware of Kempstone’s obsession with the beauty being offered on the marriage mart. And Kempstone had been far from the only admirer of Tess Starling. Tallon shrugged, although he felt anything but unconcerned. “I never met her.”

“Ah, yes. Spent most your time in the clubs avoiding a couple of matchmakers who were willing to risk their precious offspring with you.” Gibbs turned his head and stared at the parlor’s entrance. “Where are all the bloody servants? I’m parched.”

Tallon walked across the room to where his aunt kept her cognac. He strode back and thrust the glass and decanter at Gibbs. “It’s not the same girl,” he insisted.

“I’d bet my left ballock on it,” Gibbs said.

“You had better keep them both. God knows you are pitiful enough with the full package.”

Gibbs, who had been sipping his cognac, sputtered into his glass. “Very amusing.” “Do you think you might get back to the subject of Tess Starling?” His uneasiness

grew. He’d never known Gibbs to tell him anything other than the truth. This would

explain why Tallon’s solicitor had had no success with his inquiries regarding Mr. Calloway and the settling of his debts.

“Yes, quite right,” Gibbs replied. “Lucky girl, slipping away from Kempstone. Can you imagine having to listen to him blathering on about his hunting triumphs?”

“Your point, Gibbs?”

Gibbs, not feeling the least bit rushed, poured himself another cognac and swirled the amber liquid in his tumbler. “Well, Tess Starling’s father had underestimated the cost of a season. She’d barely been in town when he whisked her back home. Poor devil died not long after. There were whispers of suicide. I believe the girl was the one to find him.” He took a small item from his waistcoat pocket. “I knew you’d want proof.” He set the item carefully on the table between them as though it were a precious egg. “It’s Kempstone’s lucky talisman. Had it on the table at the gaming hell.”

Tallon lit a candle before lifting the oval porcelain box from the table. “Careful, Kempstone will have my head if anything happens to it.”

Tallon held it up to the candlelight. The artist had captured her exactly, including the beginnings of that seductive smile of hers. He doubted there was a man who saw that painting who didn’t wish he’d put that satisfied smile on her face.

“A portrait her father had commissioned, but then he didn’t have the blunt to pay the artist. Kempstone had it made into a snuffbox. The fuss he made over my borrowing it, you’d think I’d asked him to lend me his wife.” Gibbs sat forward and peered at the box resting on Tallon’s palm, admiring it anew. “Damn delectable handful, that one.”

Tallon gave his friend a quelling look. His fingers folded around the snuffbox. He wanted to crush it. She’d tricked him again. He was keeping a viscount’s daughter as a veritable slave to his desires with all intentions of making her his mistress. “I’ll get this back to you,” he said as he stood.

Gibbs eyed Tallon warily. “Remember, it will be my head or worse,” he said. “At least you will still have both ballocks. See yourself out, will you?”

Gibbs chugged back his cognac. “That’s gratitude.” He plucked his top hat from the arm of the settee and set it firmly on his head. “Remember, don’t dare lose that box,” he warned again before leaving.

Tallon raced up the stairs. Her need for revenge and his own selfishness had done him in. But he was not so far gone, become so amoral, that he could not see his place in this, could not find his way out of this pit he’d dug for himself.

Stubborn as always, he thought, she’d appropriated his coat again. Curled atop the divan, she’d fallen asleep over the book she’d been reading. Luxurious lashes shaded her creamy pink cheeks. She was irresistible.