Never Trust a Scoundrel (15 page)

Passion spiraled through her as his tongue invaded her mouth. She met it with her own, dueled and won her own entrance. He tasted of brandy and himself. She had a wild urge to pull him closer to lick more of his skin.

He broke the kiss and slid his hands away from her breasts. “You're still quite dirty,” he said, his expression serious.

To her shame, she whimpered at the loss of his touch.

But she didn't have long to wait. He moved
to the far end of the tub, and now she was able to watch him from beneath lowered eyelids. He soaped his hands, then took one foot and began to rub. She had not thought that her feet could feel such pleasure. He worked his way up her ankles and calves, but it wasn't until he reached her knees that she could summon any intelligent thought.

He wasn't going to stop.

She didn't want him to stop.

What kind of woman did that make her?

With heavy eyes, she watched his concentration. Not every man would care about her pleasure, she knew from experience. As his fingers began to trail up her right thigh, she wanted to press her legs together, but they felt boneless and heavy, no longer at her command. All of her concentration and awareness was centered on the feel of his fingers, her burning skin, and the way the depths of her body felt on fire with need for his touch.

Her legs sagged open, the cloth covering her floated away. His fingers combed gently through the hair covering her womanhood, and she bit her lip to stop her cries of pleasure. She rolled her head back and forth, body quivering, tense with waiting and wanting. At last his questing fingers moved deeper, circling, stroking, finding the center of her and stoking the fire. She had never imagined such pleasure, could not control her need to be ever higher.

She was on the edge of a new sensation when something insistent intruded on her thoughts. She
couldn't push it away, couldn't let herself relax until she knew.

She opened her eyes and tried to close her weak limbs.

He looked up at her in surprise. “Grace?”

“This—this pleasure you give me…it doesn't mean you've won,” she whispered hoarsely.

His mouth quirked up in a tight smile. “No. When I'm inside you, you'll know I've won.”

She narrowed her eyes, gasping, even as he continued to gently stroke and tease her. “Never.”

“You dare much,” he said, his smile widening into a grin.

And then he came down over her, lifting her up so that he could take her nipple deep into his mouth. His fingers picked up the rhythm at her core, the water churned around her as she stiffened and gasped. An explosion seemed to go off inside her, and Daniel's mouth was suddenly on hers, swallowing the cries she could not control. The shudders of pleasure moved through her, were part of her. She didn't want them to end, so overwhelmed was she by how he could make her feel.

At last she was able to open her eyes and truly see him. He didn't look smug or victorious. He reached to brush a damp curl out of her eye, and she thought she saw…tenderness.

It was gone only a moment later. She wondered if she had imagined it, because now he was wearing a faint smile, though there were marks of strain bracketing his mouth.

“Have you been well pleasured, my lady?” he asked in a low voice.

“You know I have.” She felt awkward, unsure of herself, because he had not received the same pleasure.

She stared at him solemnly, and it took every ounce of shattered control not to reach out and touch him, feel that smooth skin. She knew he'd be hot to the touch, and she longed to press herself to him and experience more.

But this was what he wanted. He was waiting for her to give in. With her mouth set in a grim line, she said nothing. His eyes grew shuttered, impassive, and at last he rose to his feet. In the instant before he turned back to his clothing, she saw the long ridge of his arousal, so obvious in his tight trousers.

She told herself she would not feel guilty—she hadn't asked for his attentions. As she silently watched him dress, he completed every button and tied his cravat impatiently. She knew he did this in case someone saw him strolling on the balcony. He did this for her, because she'd asked him to keep their challenge a secret from the beginning.

Because if they were discovered, he would not marry her.

She had always had a thread of cynicism moving through her; it came from having a mother who let her down so frequently. But she hated to feel it in herself now. She couldn't trust him—but she wanted to.

Impeccably dressed once more, he turned back to her. “Shall I help you out?”

“I still have to wash my hair.”

He bowed deeply, as if she'd done him some kind of honor rather than just allowed him the liberties she had. He walked to the balcony door, opened it, and closed it behind him.

With a groan, she closed her eyes and sank beneath the water, wetting her hair. She felt tender and tingly and new inside, as if the insight into what could happen with a considerate lover had changed her. Now she knew what true unselfish intimacy was all about.

What would she do tomorrow night if he came to her again? She would be in her own home—now his home, she thought with a start of sadness—but that wouldn't stop him. He was determined, and time was counting down. She told herself to feel relieved that she'd rebuffed him again, but she knew better.

Every time they were alone, she gave up more and more. If he pressed her harder, if he laid her down on the bed and rose naked above her, would she surrender at last? If she glimpsed that look of tenderness on his face again, the one that made her feel special to him, what would she do? The drowsy, pleasurable haze he inspired with his hands and mouth made her confused and certain of only one thing—that she wanted him. She wanted to burn like this again, and to know that he was consumed by the flames as well.

D
aniel knew he wasn't himself in the morning. He ate breakfast in the dining room with Simon, Louisa, and Grace, and the three of them chattered away like old friends. He could barely pay attention to the conversation, so consumed was he by thoughts of Grace.

Except for avoiding his gaze, she acted…completely normal.

And he was terribly frustrated, in both mind and body.

He had thought teaching her the pleasures she could experience would finally make her lose control. For just a moment when he'd stood above her bathing tub, he'd thought she would at last surrender to him.

But she'd drawn on a deep reservoir of strength and sent him away.

Fool that he was, afterward he had stood outside her room and tortured himself more by peering through the draperies to watch her washing her hair. And then she'd risen gracefully to her feet, all glistening nude beauty, and poured a
bucket of water over her head to sluice away the soap. Her body had still blushed pink where he'd caressed her.

He had groaned aloud, there in the dark, separated from the light and warmth that was Grace.

He had returned to his room and paced for several hours, feeling for the first time that he might not win this challenge. He had satisfied her, but he'd been the one left wanting and needing her.

He gave a start at the table, realizing that Louisa was speaking, although not to him.

“I'll be visiting London next month,” she was saying to Grace. “Please pay me a call. We can attend the symphony together, and I'm certain I can introduce you to many gentlemen you'll approve of.”

Simon cleared his throat but remained silent. Louisa pointedly ignored him. Daniel barely kept himself from frowning. Now Louisa was matchmaking?

“How kind of you,” Grace replied, looking delighted.

Daniel distanced himself from his confused thoughts, watching Grace's look of interest. He should be happy for her. She had a dowry, and she needed a husband. Louisa would certainly find her someone nice.

Someone Grace could trust. Because he knew he was not that kind of man.

It was more difficult than normal to hide his bad mood when they took their leave of Enfield Manor. Rain was pouring down as the carriage
began the day's journey north. Keeping the windows raised made the carriage hot and stuffy, and Grace fanned herself occasionally, but there was also a restless nervousness to her that had her tapping her toes and fidgeting. She kept giving him curious looks, and he finally pretended to go to sleep. It wasn't difficult because he'd had a restless night dreaming about her. He was finding himself vastly annoyed with this challenge and the difficulty of winning it.

But hadn't he been bored with his life before Grace fell into it? Hadn't easily winning everything he tried proved no challenge at all?

And now Grace was livening up his days, challenging his evenings, wandering through his dreams at night. Why was he even complaining?

He found his temper improving through the morning, and by the time they reached the village of Hertingfordbury, nestled amidst rolling hills by the river Maran, he was looking forward to seeing where Grace was raised. But as his demeanor improved, hers wilted. What did she think would happen? Or was she afraid of how it would look to her staff for her to appear in company with a man?

Her family property, Maran Park, was a prosperous farm that bordered the river and spread across acres of sheep pasture and grainfields. The manor itself was rectangular, two stories with a columned portico in the front, which made it handy to drive the carriage beneath to escape the rain.

Daniel descended first, and then turned to help the women down.

As Ruby started up the stairs, Grace took her arm. “I have not alerted the household to the new owner. Please allow me to do so before you say anything.”

“Aye, miss,” the maid said, and disappeared inside.

Daniel stood alone with Grace, trying to read her expression.

“Is it good to be home?” he asked softly.

She gave him a quick frown. “You mean your home?”

He winced inwardly as he realized his stupidity. Of course for her this place would have good memories—and bad, because it was no longer hers.

But he could not regret having been involved in a card game with Mrs. Banbury. It had brought Grace into his life. And Mrs. Banbury might have lost the properties to someone who wouldn't care about preserving them for the family, like he did.

But he couldn't tell her that, for the game would be over.

Daniel gave her a moment to collect herself. He had wanted to have her safely away from London while he had Horace Jenkins investigated. Daniel had also wanted to be alone with her as much as possible—which had worked well at Enfield Manor.

But he had foolishly underestimated her reaction to Maran Park. He had taken it away from
her, left her homeless, and she would be even more reminded of it here. Her sadness and his regret would not lead to seduction, not tonight.

“I'll introduce you to the steward and the housekeeper first,” Grace said with a sigh. “Their offices are in a corridor near the kitchens.”

 

The meeting with the servants went as well as could be expected, Grace thought. The steward seemed unsurprised at the change of ownership, as if it were long anticipated. Her fears that someone would discover the wager hadn't materialized, probably because they all just assumed that her mother had finally had to sell the property for the money. The weight of relief that lifted from Grace made her breathe easily for the first time all day. Her secrets were still safe.

Daniel was competent and authoritative as he agreed that the staff should remain the same. After that, everyone breathed easier, and a cheerful kitchen staff served them luncheon in the dining room.

Daniel sat at the head of the table, and Grace at his right. When the footman set down their plates and left the room, she forked through her mutton cutlets, and then finally looked up at him.

He was chewing slowly and watching her.

Something tugged deep inside her, a heavy feeling of budding pleasure, but she forced herself to ignore it. They would be alone in the house tonight but for the servants, and she needed all her powers of resistance.

And all she could think about was that he had seen her completely naked.

It had been difficult to spend the morning facing him, and she'd been relieved when he'd slept. But now, looking into his knowing eyes, she felt like she might never stop blushing. His hands had been between her legs, his mouth on her breasts. Even though she'd experienced all of these embarrassments with Baxter Wells, it had felt different. For one thing, she'd thought she'd been in love with Baxter, and he with her. With crudity, he had disabused her of that notion.

“Are you going to look at me?” he asked softly.

She glanced worriedly at the door to the kitchens, then back at him. “Of course.”

“I am sorry that my being here hasn't been easy for you.”

She arched a brow in surprise. “It is difficult.”

“I thought you might want to speak with your servants without me present, so I'll take the carriage to visit my mother this evening and return for you tomorrow.”

She blinked at him. He was leaving? She told herself she would be alone, at peace, in one of her favorite places.

But it wasn't hers anymore. Her mother had taken care of that. Her family wasn't here, and she suddenly felt a loneliness that took her by surprise.

But his home would be full of people—more of his family, whom she wanted to meet. It was the seat of the duke of Madingley, a palace, so
she heard, with at least a hundred servants, and grounds that stretched out as far as the eye could see.

Daniel had grown up there, with two happy parents, until a tragic accident. Then he'd been thrust into a world of mean little boys and rumors he'd had to defend against.

He could have turned out to be a much different man, colder, cynical. And on the surface, that was the image he let people see. But she saw below that, to a man who defended his mother, who helped a friend in a desperate situation. Perhaps she could better understand how to redeem him by meeting the rest of his family.

Daniel smiled at her. “You have no comment about my leaving?”

“I am…simply surprised. I will think on it and come up with the perfect response.”

“Of course you will. Or perhaps you wish I wouldn't go.”

She realized that she didn't want him to go without her. “I think you may go, but I will go with you.”

His smile faded, and he studied her as if looking for a motive.

“You don't need to be so suspicious,” she said. “Why would I not want to see where you grew up, now that you've seen the same about me?”

“I will consider it, but only if you tell me about your family and living here.”

“And why would you care about that? It's not as if I can tell you anything about running a
small country manor. I'm sure you already own dozens.”

“Not quite,” he said dryly.

“Then how many?”

With a smile, he said, “Five, including this one.”

“And did you win them all?”

“Only this one. The rest were honestly purchased. So now I've answered your questions, and you need to answer mine. How old were you when your father died?”

“Nine.”

“And that made your brother…”

“Eight. Not old enough to learn much from my father, but still, we were able to benefit from his influence. The memories are good ones. Edward wasn't able to go away to school, but he was tutored. Perhaps you'd think he wasn't missing much.”

“I made valuable friends at school, which I've always appreciated,” Daniel said neutrally.

She didn't ask him about the enemies he'd made. “Edward's tutoring led to my own education. He always made sure I could learn anything he was.”

“And your mother didn't interfere?”

“No. I don't think she much cared, one way or another.” She hadn't meant to say so much about her mother's shortcomings as a parent.

But at least Daniel didn't give her a look of pity, only interest. Though both of them had lost their fathers at a young age, their mothers had handled their grief in vastly different ways.

“Edward is still educating himself,” Grace quickly said to change the subject. “I even saw him reading a book on the railways.”

“Good, he's doing his assignment.”

“Assignment?”

A brief look of annoyance crossed Daniel's face, and she knew it was directed at himself. She was beginning to know him well. “Too late, Daniel. You've already revealed it. What is going on between you and my brother?”

“Just some advising. I'm teaching him about wise investing, and I recommended he read up on the railways because that's where so much money is being made right now.”

She put down her fork and stared at him in surprise. “You're trying to help my brother?”

“‘Guide' would be a better word. You don't have to look so surprised,” he added dryly.

“And why shouldn't I be surprised? Most people would be.”

“Because you—and everyone else—seem to think I'm only out for my own betterment.”

“You don't show the world much else, Daniel,” she said gently. She felt…a softness deep inside her when she thought of him helping her brother. It wouldn't affect her relationship with Daniel, so surely he didn't do it because of her.

“I don't
have
to show the world such things.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin, as if he suddenly couldn't wait to leave her.

“You encourage people to think the worst of you. You seduce young ladies,” she admonished him.

“Every man does that.”

“They do?”

He gave her this gentle smile that made her feel…strange, and then he lightly cupped her cheek. “You are an innocent, Grace.”

He did not know the truth about her innocence. She pulled away. “What time are we leaving?”

His smile faded. “What if I don't wish to escort you?”

“Then I guess I'll have to return to London alone. Perhaps Edward has discovered the identity of the man watching the town house.” She gave him a bright smile, knowing that he would not want her where he could not watch over her. It was a safe feeling, and it had been a long time since she'd felt safe.

He narrowed his eyes. “Your education held you in good stead. We'll leave in an hour, so that we can make it to Madingley Court before dark.”

She pushed back her chair and rose as well. “Then I better hurry. Poor Ruby will have already begun to unpack.”

When Grace would have turned away, he caught her arm and pulled her closer. She nervously glanced at the entrance to the kitchen corridor, but the door remained closed.

“No one is coming,” he said softly, his breath lightly touching her ear.

She shuddered. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I am a duke's cousin, and they're all hoping that I'm courting you.”

He was, but for the wrong reasons. She felt a sadness she didn't want to examine too closely.

“I think you just can't bear to be away from me,” he said.

Then he nibbled her earlobe, and though she trembled, she didn't pull away.

“I think I'll be even safer under your mother's roof.” She wished her voice were steadier.

“It's a big house.”

“More places to escape from you.”

“But you still owe me a private dance. I have not forgotten.”

She looked up into his dark brown eyes, full of a warmth that made her feel too good. “Then I suggest you release me, so that we can get on with the chase.”