* * *
Elliot stared into Nina’s eyes as she slowly slid her palms upward over his chest.
“So this is fine?” she asked, her voice a soft whisper in the quiet room.
“Yes.” Elliot heard the raspy texture of his voice and wondered if she noticed it, or that he was a bit more excited than he should be. For God’s sake, it was only the prelude to a kiss, but someone needed to tell his cock that.
She stepped closer, looking as if the surface of his chest fascinated her. She flexed her fingers. “Will moving my hands like this get the Duke of Fernbridge’s attention, should he decide to kiss me?”
Reluctantly, he nodded. He’d come to her room, hoping to disperse any thoughts of Fernbridge from her head. Yet, she still asked about the man. The idea of Fernbridge kissing Nina while she touched the man caused a fire in Elliot’s gut. Perhaps he shouldn’t be tutoring her in the way to please a man. Perhaps he should be teaching her to give sloppy-wet kisses that would turn Fernbridge off. Perhaps he should tell her to keep her hands at her sides and stare at his forehead.
“Where will he put his hands?” she asked.
His gaze shifted to the plump surface of her mouth. “If he’s smart, he’ll have his hand on your cheek, as I do, and when he lowers his mouth to yours, he’ll slip it to your nape and hold your mouth close to his.”
“And his other hand?”
In response to her question, he moved it to the small of her back and pulled her body tighter to his.
Her breathing, like his, had kicked up a notch. Elliot stared into her eyes.
Nina moistened her lips.
His gaze followed the movement, and Elliot lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her slowly—brushed his lips against hers—determined that piquing her curiosity about the third type of kiss would be best saved for another time.
“Mmm.” Her mouth moved against his.
The little sound of pleasure that eased between her lips and the way her sweet mouth answered his, sent a jolt of lust through Elliot’s body. Startled, by how much he wanted to coax her mouth open and tangle his tongue with hers, he gave the plump surface of her lower lip a gentle tug and stepped back.
Her lashes fluttered open. “So, how did I do?”
The kiss, though rather pedestrian by his standards, had left him a bit unsettled. He smoothed out his expression. “You could use a bit more practice.”
“You’re insufferable. I can tell by the look in your eyes I did quite well. When I opened my eyes, you looked stunned. So, unless I’ve grown an enormous wart on my face, I believe I surpassed your expectations.”
She had. While he’d kissed her, he felt the passion within her. She was so wrong for Fernbridge.
She set her hands on her hips. “Well, what do you have to say to that?”
He wasn’t going to say anything. No. Instead, he pulled her tighter—felt the soft flesh of her breasts flatten against his chest. “Perhaps we should move on to the third type of kiss.”
Chapter Fourteen
The third type of kiss? The thought of what it would entail caused Nina’s palms to grow clammy. Yet the anxiousness within her did not outweigh her eagerness. She’d enjoyed the kiss. Not to mention the feel of Elliot’s muscled chest under her palms.
Elliot’s gaze shifted to the door, and he pressed a finger to her lips. “Someone’s coming.”
She listened. Indeed, footsteps moved closer to her door—the last one at the end of the corridor.
Someone tapped on the wooden surface.
Heart beating fast, Nina stared at the door as if the devil himself stood behind it. She’d told Maggie not to wait up for her. Had the lady’s maid come anyway?
“Nina, it’s Caroline. May I come in?”
Nina gulped a mouthful of air. If Caroline found Elliot in here, it would be better than her brother finding him. But if her sister-in-law told James, he might get one of Lord Hathaway’s hunting rifles and shoot Elliot.
“Give me a minute, Caroline.” Her gaze darted around the room, searching for a place Elliot could hide. She gave him a push toward the window. “You need to climb out,” she whispered.
“Nina, we are on the second story. It’s a twenty-foot drop,” he replied in a hushed tone.
“Yes, but I’m sure you’ve had to do it before.”
“No, darling, never. I’m not a burglar.”
“Well, you need to hide.” She pushed him toward the curtains and pulled one of the long damask panels in front of him, leaving the material looking bulky and his feet sticking out. She yanked the fabric back. “Why must you have such large feet?”
He leaned close. His warm breath touched her cheek. “Do you know what they say about a man’s feet?”
She didn’t, but the gleam in his eyes and the way one side of his mouth turned up clearly relayed it was something wicked. Scowling, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bed.
“Nina, is something amiss?” Caroline asked.
“No, I’m coming.”
She pointed to the bed. And mouthed the words, Get under there.
“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look when frazzled?” he whispered.
The man was incorrigible, flirting with her at a time like this. She gave him a hard push. It was like trying to move a brick wall.
As she made her way to the door, she frantically pulled several of the pins from her hair, allowing the dark tresses to tumble down. She glanced back at the large tester bed to make sure Elliot was out of sight, then opened the door.
“Sorry it took me so long. I was removing the pins from my hair.”
Stepping into the room, Caroline glanced around. “Are you alone? I would have sworn I heard you talking to someone.”
“I was singing.”
“Ah, I thought perhaps Victoria and you were chatting.”
“No, I’m sure she is snuggled under her bedclothes and fast asleep.” Nina feigned a yawn. “Which is what I intend to do.”
“I told Maggie she could go lie down. Poor thing has an upset stomach, so I came to help you out of your gown.”
“You need not worry about me, Caroline. I told Maggie I would be retiring late, and she didn’t need to wait up.”
“Well, I’m here, so I might as well help you slip out of your gown.”
Goodness, she didn’t want to undress with Elliot hiding under her bed. The scoundrel would probably peek. “No need to trouble yourself. I can manage. Besides, you’re not feeling well.”
“It’s no trouble at all, and strangely this late in the day, I feel better.” She made a small circular movement with her hand. “Turn around, so I can unfasten the buttons.”
“Really, Caroline, I can do it.”
“Why should you when I am here?” Without waiting for a response, Caroline stepped behind her and tossed Nina’s hair over her shoulder. Her sister-in-law unclasped the topmost button, then the next, and the next.
The gown fell off Nina’s shoulders, and trying to preserve some modesty, she folded her arms over her corset.
“Nina, step out of your gown.”
Reluctantly, she did as instructed and stood with her back to the bed.
Like a determined lady’s maid, Caroline untied and unbuttoned nearly every garment Nina wore until she stood in only her chemise-drawers combination, silk stockings, and flower embroidered garters.
“Thank you.” Nina kept her back to the bed as she darted behind the dressing screen to remove her remaining garments and slip her nightgown and dressing robe over her naked body.
She stepped out to find Caroline picking up her gown. “Caroline, I’ll put my garments away. James must be waiting up for you.”
A slight flush settled on her sister-in-law’s cheeks, and Nina knew, in a short time, James would be the one removing Caroline’s clothing.
Elliot’s words flittered through her mind. Undressing a woman can heighten her anticipation. Nina thought about what it would be like to have a husband remove her garments
, but as the vision drifted through her mind, it wasn’t Fernbridge’s face she envisioned, but that of the rascal hiding under her bed. She shoved the image out of her head and took her gown out of Caroline’s hands.
“Are you feverish, dear? Your face is flushed.” Caroline set her palm against Nina’s forehead.
“The room is warm.”
“Would you like me to ask James to come in here and open one of the windows?”
James? Here? With Elliot under her bed? “No. Nights are still cold, and I’d have to get up and close it.”
“Very well.” Caroline pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Night, dear.”
After her sister-in-law exited the room, Nina slumped against the door.
Grinning, Elliot lifted the bed skirt and poked his head out.
She opened her mouth, intent on telling him to wipe the grin off his face.
Once again, footsteps moved toward her door.
Nina waved a hand at Elliot to get back under the bed. Goodness, she hoped it wasn’t James.
Someone scratched lightly at the surface. Too light to be her brother. She released a breath and opened the door.
Maggie gave a quick curtsey. “Lord Huntington’s valet gave me one of his famous tinctures, and I’m feeling much improved, my lady.”
Nina’s heart sunk into her stomach. “Maggie, I told you that you needn’t wait up for me.”
“I know, but . . . oh, my!” The lady’s maid uttered a sound of displeasure at the pile of clothes on the floor and stepped into the room. “I’ll not shirk my duties.” The maid plucked the garment from Nina’s hands and strode to the armoire. While she hung the gown up, Maggie chatted away.
Nina glanced at the bed, wondering if Elliot might have fallen asleep under there.
“I heard belowstairs that you have an admirer.”
Nina knew servants gossiped. “Did you hear who?”
“I only caught the end of the conversation, so I didn’t catch his name, but if it was me, I’d want it to be Lord Ralston.” Maggie released a wistful sigh. “He’s a handsome devil, he is.”
That was all Elliot needed to hear. If still awake under the bed, he was probably preening like a peacock.
Maggie put the last item away. “I got the impression he’s a bit wicked, miss. Is it true he’s a womanizer?”
“Yes, he’s a scoundrel.” She grinned, wondering if Elliot’s ears were burning.
“Sit, miss, and I’ll braid your hair.”
“No need.” Nina quickly divided her locks into three long ropes of hair and braided them. “There, all done.”
“Well, good night, miss.”
“Good night.”
As soon as the maid closed the door behind her, Elliot slipped out from underneath the bed. Grinning, he brushed off his clothes.
“Oh, you devil, wipe that smile off your face and tell me you weren’t watching?”
His gaze worked its way down her body, now draped in only her nightgown and robe. He looked at her as if he could see through the cotton of her garments.
He leaned toward her, and his warm breath touched her ear. “I couldn’t see a thing, but I never thought I’d get so much pleasure from envisioning one woman being undressed by another.”
Nina’s cheeks warmed.
Elliot strode toward the door and, without saying anything more, slipped out of the bedchamber.
* * *
The following morning, those who wished to partake in an early ride were to meet at the stables.
Once again, his valet moved so slow, Elliot headed there late.
Unfair to place all the blame on Wilson. Elliot had overslept. After the fiasco with him hiding under Nina’s bed, he’d thought of her standing before him in her nightgown. The sight of her had caused him to feel restless. One specific thought during the long night plagued him—that it had more to do with her than what she’d worn—leaving him tossing and turning until the small hours.
At the stables, nearly everyone had already mounted their horses. He spotted Nina dressed in a navy riding habit with a crisp white shirt. She sat on a chestnut horse with strong hind legs and a short back. The glint in her eyes and bright smile reflected her excitement at taking the warm-blooded animal out to move across the fields and over the hedges. The duke had positioned his mount next to hers.
As if Nina felt the heat of Elliot’s gaze, she peered his way. The pink on her cheeks darkened, and she quickly glanced away.
Was she remembering their kiss? That memory had also played a part in his restless night.
Fernbridge’s gaze volleyed from her to him. He said something to Nina, and they trotted out of the courtyard.
A groomsman handed Elliot the reins to a black bay. He swung up and into the saddle.
The morning fog had all but lifted, giving Elliot a view of the field and vale. Lord Hathaway’s property boasted several rock fences and taller hedges.
As they reached the open field, the riders loosened their grasp on their reins. The ground reverberated from the sound of fast-moving hooves.
Ahead of him, Nina and Fernbridge leaped over one of the low rock fences. They picked up speed and headed toward a hedge. The duke hopped it first, then Nina. Fernbridge rode well, but Nina hopped the hedge as if she rode Pegasus.
Obviously impressed, Fernbridge smiled at her. Nina’s horsemanship would recommend her to the man, since he favored sports above everything else. Well, besides his self-importance.
Elliot increased the pressure on his mount’s flanks and jumped the rock fence, then the hedge. Moving at breakneck speed, he caught up to them.
His Grace’s smile flattened out. He narrowed his eyes at Elliot.
“How about that one?” Nina asked and pointed to a hedge in the distance. They both nodded and followed her. The sound of pounding hooves filled the air.
This time, Nina took the hedge first. Again, with impeccable skill. Her back straight. Her hold on the reins relaxed, leaving the bit loose.
Elliot and Fernbridge moved across the field, neck and neck; then Elliot pulled ahead. He’d been riding since knee high. He presumed Fernbridge had as well, but Elliot’s mount was faster, and he jumped first.
The glower on Fernbridge’s face when he caught up to Elliot relayed he didn’t appreciate being bested. The duke was still the same privileged snot he’d been in school, believing his rank and wealth meant other men should allow him to gain the victory. Elliot didn’t intend on letting him win, especially when it came to Nina.
Ignoring the duke’s glower, he followed Nina as she spurred her own mount toward another hedge.
Tendrils of her hair loosened from her pinned-up chignon to sail in the wind behind her. The sight of her controlling the strong animal with such skill caused Elliot to want her even more. Want her in his bed, both of them tangled in the sheets, their mouths moving over each other’s skin.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.
For a moment, everything that weighed on his mind seemed inconsequential beside the happiness on her face.
With the same skill she’d exhibited before, Nina jumped the hedge, looking as buoyant as he felt.
“I’m next,” Fernbridge said as he drew his horse dangerously close to Elliot’s, while flicking a crop toward the face of Elliot’s mount—an obvious attempt to cause the animal to shy and veer to the left.
Bloody nitwit. Elliot slowed. Beating Fernbridge to the hedge wasn’t worth getting his horse injured if the animal twisted an ankle.
Fernbridge’s horse must have sensed the man’s recklessness because the animal’s hind legs grazed the top of the hedge as if skittish.
As they crossed a field, a gunshot rang out.
The bullet whipped by them and struck an oak. The tree’s bark splintered, sending shards into the air.
Good Lord, that had been close. Elliot’s stomach clenched and a chill raced down his spine. He had witnessed, firsthand, what the impact of a bullet could do to the soft flesh of a human.
&
nbsp; Ears pinned back, Nina’s horse let of a snort and reared.
For a terrifying minute, Elliot feared she would be unseated. His heart beat fast.
Tightly, she held on to the reins as the spooked horse landed on all fours.
“Nina?”
“I’m fine.” She ran her hand over the animal’s withers. “You’re all right, boy.” She spoke in a calm, reassuring voice.
“By God, why would Hathaway allow hunters in the forest so close to where we ride?” Fernbridge asked.
Shielding his eyes from the sun, Elliot looked toward the woods. Whomever it was had moved deeper into the trees, away from them, causing birds to scatter into the sky.
“I think it best we move away from the woods. That fool might aim this way again.”
As they rode back to the stables, Fernbridge kept glancing at Nina as if waiting for some delayed reaction, or some form of hysterics. Elliot knew there wouldn’t be any. The more time he spent with Nina, the more he realized how strong she was. Yet, her independent nature railed against her desire to be what she thought her family wished of her.
After returning their mounts to the stables, Nina went to her bedchamber to change, while Fernbridge and Elliot went in search of Lord Hathaway. They found him talking with several guests in the drawing room.
“Might we have a word with you, Hathaway?” Elliot asked.
The man’s gaze shifted from Elliot to the duke. As if sensing the tension, he stood and motioned to the doorway. “Of course.”
They followed the man out of the room and into the corridor.
“Yes, what is it?” Hathaway asked, a thread of nervous tension in his voice. One did not want a houseguest to be displeased, especially a duke.
“Is your gamekeeper hunting in the woods to the west of the riding fields?” Ralston asked.
“No. Of course, not.” Hathaway pulled out his pocket watch. “He’s out exercising the hounds.”
“Poachers,” Fernbridge hissed.
Hathaway’s cheeks turned red. “What happened?”
“While we were riding, a shot rang out. A stray bullet came close to where we rode.”
“Good God!” Hathaway pressed the tips of his fingers to his lips. “I’ll get some men over there. And by God, if they find the rascal, I’ll have him strung up.”
Never Conspire with a Sinful Baron Page 11