Secrets of a Runaway Bride (22 page)

Jordan couldn’t remember the last time he was this on fire for a woman. His mistresses had all been worldly and wise, experienced enough to know exactly how to touch a man. But Annie’s innocent tongue was making him crazy. He pulled the pins from the top of her hair and the mass spilled down around her neck and shoulders. He buried his face in it. He knew it would be beautiful, as beautiful as she was. Then his mouth was back on hers and her hands were plowing through his hair, making him want to rip all the clothing from her body and make her his, right here on the settee in the middle of the salon. He briefly considered the odds of being interrupted by Aunt Clarissa. But that lady could barely find her way to her own room. He doubted she’d discover them. A poor, poor choice for a chaperone, he thought with a wry smile. He’d have to speak to Lily and Devon about it when they returned.

He kissed Annie’s cheek, her mouth, her neck, her earlobe. The little sounds she was making in the back of her throat made him rock hard. His mouth moved to her neck and he sucked there as if he were a very young man again, unable to go further with this woman. God, yes, Annie made him feel things he hadn’t felt in an age. But mostly she made him feel overwhelming, all-consuming
lust
.

His mouth went to her neck again, down, down, and he nuzzled at her décolletage. And she had
such
perfect breasts. Annie sucked in her breath sharply. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t do more. Annie was innocent and she was Devon’s sister-in-law. His mind kept repeating the warnings, but his hand moved to brush against her nipple. Annie gasped. His thumb flicked back and forth against her underneath her dress. Her breast wasn’t even bared to him but Jordan was so hard he hurt. He clenched his jaw and moved his mouth back up to hers. He kissed her until his lips were numb, kissed her until he couldn’t think straight anymore, kissed her until Annie pulled away from him slightly, looked at him with those soul-searching dark brown eyes, and whispered, “Jordan?”

Jordan drew a shaky breath. She was using his name. And she was asking him what was next. Jordan knew it deep down just like he knew that nothing could be next. It took every single modicum of strength he possessed—he would ever possess—to push her from his lap. He set her gently on the settee, took a deep breath, willing his overheated body back to normalcy, and stood. But he couldn’t face her. Not only would she see the stark evidence of his arousal, but there was every chance if he looked at her again, he would kiss her again, and next time he wouldn’t stop.

Jordan clenched his eyes shut and opened them again before making his way toward the door. He didn’t look back.

“My apologies, Annie.” He cursed under his breath and left without saying another word.

CHAPTER 28

Annie hurried into her room and closed the door behind her. She leaned back against it, expelled her breath, and closed her eyes. What in the devil’s name had
that
been about? How had the night begun with her telling Jordan about her past and ended with them locked in a torrid embrace upon the settee?

And, oh, God, what a torrid embrace it had been. Annie went hot and cold again just thinking about it. He’d touched her breast. No man had ever done that before. He’d touched her breast and made her feel things deep down she couldn’t explain. All she’d known was that she never wanted him to stop. She wanted to kiss him until she died. And she hadn’t even cared if they’d been discovered by a servant or Aunt Clarissa. Though Aunt Clarissa would probably pat her on the shoulder and say, “Well done,” she thought with a wry smile.

Annie crossed over to her bed and sat on the edge, contemplating her slippers and trying to make sense of what had just happened. It hadn’t been out of pity, had it? His kisses? Oh God, she couldn’t bear it if it had. But he hadn’t been dissembling, she knew that much. She’d felt the evidence of his arousal when she’d been sitting on his lap. Felt his hardness. She’d wanted to reach down and touch it, but she’d been too hesitant.

Instead, she’d wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until her head was spinning. It felt so good. And his kisses were so unlike Arthur’s one inept attempt had been. When she kissed Jordan it was like drowning in a sea of molten honey. So sweet and rich and wonderful.

Annie shook her head. But what did all of it mean? Jordan had dragged her out to his estate, trotted his three brothers in front of her unsuccessfully, and now he was kissing her? Was the man such a rake he simply couldn’t keep his hands off any woman in his company? Was that it?

Oh, what did it matter? Regardless of his intentions, no good could come from her kissing him. She needed to get away from here. She needed to get back to London. She desperately wished for Lily. She missed her sister so.

Lily wasn’t there, but surely going back to London was the best choice. Oh God, she wasn’t even sure anymore exactly what she should do, but staying out here in the country being tempted by the most handsome man in the kingdom was not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. Oh, where the deuce was Lord Medford when you needed him?

She pressed her fingers to her aching temples. She needed some sleep, then she would make a plan. Yes, tomorrow she would pool her resources and ensure that she and Mary and Aunt Clarissa somehow made it back to London. Tonight, tonight she would rest.

And she just might replay the last half hour in the salon with Lord Ashbourne in her head while she drifted to sleep.

*   *   *

Jordan stalked into his bedchamber and slammed the door behind him. Damn it. What had that been about? He didn’t have any right doing that. Any of that. It made no sense. It must be his self-imposed celibacy that was getting the best of him. What the hell was he thinking? There was something about Annie’s vulnerability and simple beauty that had drawn him in, and her story about her father and that idiot boy who’d told her she had mud-colored eyes had tugged at his heart.

Of course Eggleston said she was pretty. She was bloody gorgeous and she didn’t even know it. And
that
was the reason she’d thought she was in love with Eggleston? A tragedy.

Jordan paced the floor. His sojourn into the country with Annie was not progressing in the way he’d hoped. Not at all. Fine, he was willing to concede that his plan to introduce her to his brothers hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever concocted, but how could he know that Michael, Timothy, and Charlie wouldn’t want her? She was the perfect candidate for a wife. Yes, she caused trouble now and then, but once she settled down into marriage, he had no doubt she’d be a devoted wife and mother.

And what the hell had Charlie been talking about, telling Jordan he should marry her? That was insanity as well. He was attracted to her. He had to admit that to himself. But this couldn’t go on. He couldn’t keep her in his house for the remainder of the fortnight with just the two of them. No, damn it. He would find her a husband. His own brothers were fools, but there must be some man of breeding, good looks, fortune, and good taste who would know a perfectly fine choice of wife when he saw her. He would find that man.

Jordan stalked to the window and stared out into the blackness.

A ball.

He would host a ball. One intended solely to find Annie a husband. He’d invite every eligible bachelor from London and call in all his favors to ensure they attended. Yes. That’s what he would do. Next week. That way, by the time Devon and Lily returned, all that would be left to do would be to gain their blessing of the union and the contract could be signed. Perfect. He’d be solving Annie’s problem and his own simultaneously.

Get her off his hands and help his two friends.

Yes. A ball was in order. A selfless act. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he was lusting after Annie himself. Though he did need to get her safely off the market and out of his reach. He didn’t trust himself anymore where she was concerned.

He would host a marriage ball for Annie.

CHAPTER 29

When Medford was escorted into Jordan’s study two days later, all Jordan could do was offer the man a drink.

“By all means,” Medford said. “Make it a double.”

“I didn’t think you knew what a double was,” Jordan replied with a tight smile. “Besides, shouldn’t you be in London, Medford, publishing some scandalworthy literature?”

Medford ignored that barb. “I assume you know why I’ve come.”

Jordan sighed. “Annie wrote to you and told you I was torturing her, no doubt.”

“Annie wrote me and told me you’d abducted her.”

“Ah, even better.” Jordan flashed a grin.

“Is that true?”

Jordan handed Medford his drink. “Yes.”

Medford cracked a smile. “And the torture?”

“To commence any moment now.”

Medford leaned back in his chair and kicked up his booted feet on the top of the desk. “I assume you removed her from London because she’d caused even more trouble.”

Jordan leaned his head back against his leather chair and stared at the ceiling momentarily. “If you must know, I chased her down on the way to Gretna Green again with that fool Eggleston. I brought her here so she’d have no access to the sop for the next fortnight.” He leveled his eyes on Medford, his drink resting in his hand.

“Ah, waiting out the time it will take Lily and Devon to return, no?”

Jordan lifted his glass in a silent salute. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. You’re still welcome to take over if you see fit, Medford. Bring her back to London, watch her yourself.”

Medford took a sip of his drink. “What? And miss all this fun?”

“Fun or not, I’m planning to host a ball to find Annie a husband.”

Medford’s eyebrow arched. “Really? Now
that
is an interesting turn of events.”

Jordan opened his mouth to reply but a sharp knock sounded on the door and Annie rushed into the room. She took one look at Medford and relief swept across her face.

“Lord Medford, finally. Where have you been?” She flew to him like a delicate bird. She was wearing a soft blue day dress, and Jordan tried to ignore how good she smelled. And looked. He’d studiously avoided her for the last two days.

Medford pushed his drink aside and stood to take Annie’s hand. “If it isn’t our runaway bride.”

“Oh no. You’re not calling me that too, are you?” Annie allowed him to bow over her hand and then she crossed her arms over her middle and tapped her foot, glaring at him.

Medford flashed a smile. “You must admit, you have a penchant for running off in search of marriage.”

Annie ignored that. “Why has it taken you so long to come to take me back to London?”

Medford flashed her a smile and gestured to the chair next to him. “Sit down. Sit down. I assume we can all discuss this like rational adults.”

Annie grudgingly settled into the chair next to Medford, her arms still crossed. “Don’t worry, Jordan,” she said, not looking at him. “I’ve no doubt Lord Medford will take over the responsibility of me.”

Jordan cracked a smile. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Annie’s gaze flew to Medford’s face. “Tell me that’s not so. Tell me you’re here to take me back with you.”

Medford glanced back and forth between the two of them, wearing an open smile. “First of all, I see you’re on a first-name basis with each other now. And secondly, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the two of you are doing your level best to avoid looking at one another.”

Annie bit her lip and glanced down at her slippers. Jordan narrowed his eyes on Medford.

“And thirdly,” Medford continued, “I’ve yet to decide if you need me to rescue you, Anne. Aunt Clarissa’s with you so it’s entirely proper and you appear fit enough to me.” He winked at her.

Annie nearly came out of her seat. “Did he tell you he tried to pair me with his brothers?”

Medford raised his brows. “His brothers?” He glanced at Jordan. “All of them?”

Jordan grunted. “Yes, I had some damn fool notion.”

Medford settled into his chair. “None of them offered for her, I take it.”

Another grunt from Jordan. “No. The fools. Not one.”

Annie’s eyes widened slightly at that.

“And now you’re planning a ball?” Medford asked.

Jordan nodded. “Partly to keep Annie occupied and partly to find a decent bloke for her to marry. Anyone I invite shall be a sight better than Arthur Eggleston.”

Annie clutched the arms of her chair. “A ball? What are you talking about?”

Jordan nodded. “Yes. I was just telling Medford about it. I’m planning it for Thursday.”

“The night before Devon and Lily return?” Annie murmured.

“Yes.”

Medford took a sip of his drink. “It’s not my imagination. The two of you are definitely having a conversation without looking at one another. Hmm.”

Annie made a show of smoothing her skirts, while Jordan cursed under his breath, stood and walked to a window to stare out across the lawns.

Annie cleared her throat. “A ball to find me a husband? You see?” she asked Medford imploringly. “You see what I have to deal with? He’s mad.”

Medford glanced at her. “I don’t see what’s so very wrong with a ball. People have them all the time in London.”

“Yes, but he’s expecting me to marry as a result of it.”

“Tell me, Anne, will you invite Eggleston to this ball?” Medford asked.

“Oh, by all means, let’s invite Arthur to this farce.” She tossed her hands in the air.

“That fool won’t show his face here if he knows what’s good for him,” Jordan snapped.

Medford’s eyebrows shot up. “You intend to keep him away, Ashbourne?”

Jordan shoved his hands in his pockets. “No, he’s welcome to come. I’d relish the excuse to beat him to a pulp. The last time I saw him, I threatened just that.”

Annie shook her head. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Jordan replied.

Medford laughed. “Well. Well. Well. This promises to be quite the fete. I’m only sorry I cannot make it myself. But not to worry. I’m hardly eligible, and now that I’ve seen that Annie is not damaged or bruised, I can return to London in good conscience.”