“But—”
Leo sneered down at her and let out a humorless scoff. “Seems you’ve got plenty of other things to occupy you, right, Gen?”
“Stop it, Leo.” She shook off Archie’s gentle touch and scrambled to her feet.
But Leo’s attention had swung to Archie. “She’s all yours, mate. No better than her whore of a mother. Good riddance.”
Gen sucked in a shocked breath, the pain of Leo’s insult ricocheting through her. Never once, in all their years of friendship, had Leo ever uttered a disparaging word about her mother. Those were André’s hateful words, poisoning the boy she’d known forever.
Archie took a menacing step in Leo’s direction, suddenly looking so much bigger and stronger than he had before now. “She’s not your possession to pass off, and don’t you dare utter a word against her character.”
Maybe it was Archie’s voice, so low and menacing, or maybe it was his size, several inches taller than Leo, but Archie’s words finally seemed to pierce Leo’s haze of anger. He cast a furtive, slightly guilty look at Gen.
She held a hand out to him, willing him to turn away from André before it was too late. “Leo—”
“Goodbye, Gen.” The words were clipped, hard, and final. He turned away and stomped back into the dance hall. Gen stared after him in shocked silence.
“Gen.” Archie came back to her side, taking her gently by the elbow. “You’re hurt.”
Absently, she raised her hand to the sore spot on her temple, and her fingers came away streaked with blood. Not a serious wound, but she must look a fright. “I should…” She trailed off, utterly at a loss as to what to do.
“My flat is just down the street. You can clean up there.”
Wordlessly, she nodded and allowed Archie to lead her home.
Archie’s studio was above a café on the square, nearly empty at this late hour. One of the waiters, wearily sweeping the floor, raised a hand and smiled at Archie as they passed.
“Victor,” Archie explained. “I take most of my meals there. We’ve become friends.”
Gen kept her face averted as Archie unlocked the door leading to a staircase to the upper floors, hoping Archie’s friend didn’t see the blood. That might lead to questions he’d rather not answer, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause trouble for him when he’d been so kind.
“The landlady lives on the second floor,” he said as they climbed the stairs in near-total darkness. “She goes to bed quite early and always puts the lamps out. I’ve nearly broken my neck on these stairs more times than I can count.”
There were two floors above the café, and Archie was on the topmost, under the sloping roof. The space was small, no more than twenty feet in either direction, and Archie could only stand fully upright along the wall to the right. To the left, the ceiling angled dramatically downward. Two small, grimy windows looked out over the square.
Gen made a quick survey of the space as Archie scrounged for matches to light a lamp. Most of the room was given over to his art. Canvases were stacked against the walls, and charcoal sketches were tacked up seemingly at random. A battered wooden farm table served as his workspace, littered with paper, brushes, and tubes of paint.
An ancient chest of drawers stood against one wall, and a spotted, streaked mirror hung on the wall above it. Next to it, a washstand. Furtively, she glanced at his bed, up against the wall under the windows. The painted metal frame was chipped, and the sheets were rumpled. The mattress still held an imprint of his body. Gen swallowed hard with nerves and looked back to him as he’d just managed to light the lamp. A soft glow of gold illuminated the space.
Archie shrugged apologetically. “It’s a bit bare, I know. It’s more a space for work than for living.”
“It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry, there’s no place to sit but the bed. It’s terribly improper.”
He was nervous, she realized suddenly. The inconsequential chatter, the unnecessary explanations…Archie was nervous to have her here. Despite the trauma of the night, that brought a small smile to her lips. “I’m not easily scandalized.”
His gaze narrowed in on her temple. Raising a hand, he gently brushed her hair away from it. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“It’s fine—” She began to protest.
“Gen, the blood is drying.”
Reluctantly, she nodded.
He smiled gently in return and reached for her hand. “Then come sit down.”
He led her to the bed before shedding his coat and draping it over the end of the bed. Moving to the washstand, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and wet a cloth in some water from the pitcher. Gen watched him, taking in the lovely broad expanse of his shoulders under the soft white linen of his shirt and his narrow waist, defined by his fitted waistcoat.
When he returned to her, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her. He was so tall that kneeling, he was eye-to-eye with her as she sat. “Turn your head a bit for me,” he coaxed, nudging her chin with his fingers. “You’ll have a bit of a bump, I’m afraid.”
“I’m sure I’ll survive.”
He began to dab at the wound with infinite care. It hurt, but Gen refused to flinch when he was trying so hard not to injure her further. Now that she was removed from that ugly scene with Leo, the panic and nerves that had fueled her through it fled abruptly. She felt as weak as a kitten. She had to clench her hands tightly in her lap to keep them from shaking, and her eyes burned with tears. It was easier to close them than to fight to hold the tears at bay. The last thing she wanted was for Archie to see her cry.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any food to offer you,” Archie said into the silence. “There’s part of a baguette left, but I think it’s from several days ago. I do have a bit of wine, if you’d like a drink—”
“I’m fine.”
He paused and waited until she opened her eyes and looked at him. His gaze flicked back and forth between her eyes. He was so close, his face just inches from hers. “Are you sure?”
There went her hands again, trembling. And now they were joined by her heart, pounding hard in her chest. She swallowed and nodded. “I will be,” she whispered.
Archie watched her intently for another moment, his cheek twitching as he clenched his teeth. Finally, he turned his attention back to her cut. “It’s not so bad. The bleeding has already stopped.”
He set the cloth aside and brushed her hair back again. The feel of his fingertips through her hair sent a shiver down her spine.
“I’m sorry about Leo,” he said at last, his hand still stroking over her hair. “What did you two quarrel about?”
He must not have heard the beginning of their fight. He didn’t know what Leo was planning. With luck, no one else ever would. She’d go to Leo’s flat tomorrow and talk to him again, without that hateful André there poisoning his mind. If it was just the two of them, hopefully, she could bring him to his senses. Maybe she’d tell his mother. Leo could never withstand it when Paulette Roche lit into him.
She shook her head. “It was nothing. A disagreement about something that got out of hand.”
“I know he’s been part of your life for a long time,” Archie said hesitantly. “You love him. You must be very upset.”
“That part of our relationship is over for good,” she assured him. “I had hoped…” For a moment, she couldn’t speak as the sadness overwhelmed her. “I’d hoped we could remain friends, as we’ve always been, but I’m not sure that’s possible anymore. That’s what I’m sad about, not the end of our affair.”
“I’m sorry he was so harsh with you. His cruelty was uncalled for, no matter what the state of your relationship.”
Gen dropped her eyes to her lap, the humiliating sting of Leo’s words rushing back in. “It’s true, you know,” she murmured. “What he said about my mother.”
It tumbled out in a rush, all of it. Maman, and how she made her living, Baron LeVeq throwing her over and pursuing Gen instead, he
r fear of not being able to afford the flat unless her mother found a new protector soon. In a few minutes, she’d bared her whole sad life to him.
When he said nothing for several long, painful moments, Gen chanced a glance up at him, afraid she’d see coldness and distance as he calculated how quickly he could be rid of her. None of that was there. There was nothing but gentle acceptance in his eyes.
He laid his large hand over hers where they rested in her lap. “I don’t care. It has nothing to do with you.”
The rush of gratitude and affection that swept through her blew all notions of propriety to the side. It felt like the most right and natural thing in the world to lean forward and kiss him.
When her lips pressed against his, Archie inhaled sharply, but he didn’t draw back. Gen eased away and opened her eyes to look at him, her face still very close to his. The air in his studio had gone still, quiet, and close. Tension crackled to life between them.
His lovely green-gold eyes searched her face, and whatever he saw there must have answered the question he was asking himself, because he reached up, taking her face in his hands, and drew her back in to kiss her again.
This time, it was no harmless press of lips against lips. His mouth slanted over his, lips parting, coaxing hers to do the same. She did so willingly, giving herself over to the intoxicating heat of the kiss. Archie’s fingers raked through her hair, pulling her closer, tilting her head to allow him better access.
When his tongue swept in and found hers, she let out an involuntary little moan of pleasure. His kiss was every bit as good as she’d been dreaming. Her hands found their way into his hair, silky and luxurious between her fingers. Archie’s hands drifted down, stroking along the length of her back, coming to rest on her waist. When he gripped and pulled her closer, she parted her knees to allow his strong body to slide between her legs. Her fingers traced down over the soft skin and straining tendons of his neck, coming to rest on his broad, solid shoulders.
Gently, thoroughly, and then with increasing need, Archie explored her mouth. As he leaned into her, Gen leaned back. Before she’d quite made up her mind to do it, her fingers were fumbling at the buttons of his waistcoat.
Archie broke off their kiss with a gasp. “Gen…”
She jerked her hands back. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Closing his hands over hers, he rubbed his thumbs across the backs of hers. “No, stop. There’s nothing I want more. Only, I don’t wish to take advantage of you in such an emotional moment. You might consent to something you don’t really want.”
Her heart ached with something she suspected might be love for this beautiful, strong, gentle, good man. He was so, so good.
Taking his face in her hands, she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “I know exactly what I’m doing and what I want. And what I want is you.”
He kissed her in return, his breath shaky as he exhaled. “And I want you so very much.”
Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she drew him in to her again. “I’m yours.”
“Are you sure? It’s such an enormous gift to bestow when we’re so newly acquainted.”
Her lips quirked with a wry smile. “Well, it wouldn’t exactly be the first time I’ve bestowed this gift.”
That honor had been Leo’s, last winter. And she couldn’t bring herself to regret it, even now. That night, Leo had been sweet and fumbling and so careful with her. Back then, they’d been best friends and sweethearts. It had felt right to take that momentous first step—the first time for both of them—together. She would hold on to that memory of Leo, she decided, and not let it be tarnished with what came later.
Archie blinked as her meaning became clear.
“Do you mind?” she asked, biting her lip with uncertainty. He hadn’t minded about her mother, but would this change his opinion of her?
Archie smiled slowly and shook his head. “Not at all.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently. “And I still consider it an enormous gift, one I’m entirely unworthy of.”
Her heart melted again. No man had ever treated her with such gentle reverence. How could she help but fall in love with him? Without hesitation, she lifted her hands to the buttons down the front of her bodice and began to undo them. Archie’s hungry eyes watched each one slip free, baring a small triangle of pale skin. When she’d undone three, revealing the swells of her breasts and the edge of her corset, Archie stopped her.
“May I?”
She dropped her hands and nodded. Archie rose to his feet. From where she sat on the bed, he towered above her, but not for long. Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet.
Keeping his eyes on hers, he finished what she’d started with his waistcoat buttons, shrugging out of it and tossing it away. His shirt came next, and he pulled it off with an easy, masculine grace. As it came off over his head, he shook out his hair, and Gen’s mouth went dry at the picture he made, all lean muscles and smooth skin. The soft glow of the lamplight played over the ridges of his abdomen, the very light scattering of hair on his upper chest, the small trail of it on his stomach that disappeared beneath his trousers. He was, in a word, beautiful.
He seemed unaware of that fact, or of her avid gaze, as he reached for her and, looking as if he were about to engage in the most important task of his life, began to undo her buttons himself. She held still, little tremors of sensation erupting wherever his fingers brushed. When they were all undone, he drew her bodice down her arms and tossed it to the floor to join his discarded clothing.
Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her deeply. The warm skin of his chest against her own bare arms sent an illicit thrill through her body, and she arched up into him. Those long, nimble fingers of his made quick work of the buttons on her skirt and the tapes of her petticoat. The cool night air brushed her thighs as her garments slid down her body into a pool on the floor.
“So beautiful,” Archie murmured between kisses as he reached between them and unhooked the busk hooks of her corset. There was a delicious release as the constriction gave way. Her nipples hardened, aching for his touch. “You are so very beautiful,” he said, staring down at her, now wearing just her white cotton chemise, washed and worn so often, it was nearly transparent.
Then he crouched and lifted her into his arms, away from the heap of her clothes. Two strides brought him to the bed, where he lowered her down. A swell of need began deep inside as she laid back on the rumpled sheets and watched him towering over her.
“Are you certain, love?” he asked again.
“I’ve never been more sure.”
The hunger in his eyes as they ran over her prone body was nearly her undoing. He had barely even touched her yet, and she had to press her thighs together against the ache of desire. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything or anyone.
Archie’s hands went to the front of his trousers, where he made quick work of the buttons, shucking them and his drawers at once. As he straightened again, she saw all of him, bared to her devouring eyes. His cock was…oh so much larger than she’d expected. The last thing she wanted to think about now was Leo, but his naked male body was the sum total of her experience. It was nothing at all like Archie’s.
Archie bent over her, but he didn’t immediately join her on the bed, which was somewhat surprising. From what she’d picked up from the conversations of her mother and other women like her, men usually just wished to lift a woman’s skirts and thrust himself in. Archie seemed more than happy to take his time, to enjoy looking at her as much as touching her. It made her feel shy and beautiful all at the same time.
Placing a hand on her ankle, he slowly ran his palm up her leg, under the hem of her shift. Gen could scarcely draw a breath, and she was growing embarrassingly wet between her thighs. Archie stopped when he reached the top of her stocking, tugging the garter free and, just as slowly, rolling her stocking down her leg. This time, Gen couldn’t help but arch up off the bed. Archie grinned, a boyish, wicked grin
of pleasure at what he was doing to her.
He repeated the action with her other leg, taking his time as he dragged his hands over her skin, brushing his fingertips along her inner thigh and pausing to explore the sensitive back of her knee. Spots on her body she’d heretofore been unaware of were coming to blazing life under his touch.
She was breathing hard when he took hold of the hem of her shift and began to pull it up her body. There wasn’t even time to be self-conscious before he’d whipped it away into the shadows and she lay perfectly naked, bared to his devouring gaze.
“Lovely,” he murmured, reaching out to touch her shoulder, to drag his fingers down her side, around the curve of her breast, and up to finally—finally!—brush against her hard, pebbled nipple. She bit her lip to hold back a groan. “I want to paint you just this way, naked for me.”
“Yes,” she whispered. Yes, anything he wanted, he could take from her. She would give it all willingly to him. Everything she had to give.
“I want to touch you for hours, Gen,” he muttered, lowering himself onto the bed and crawling up to cover her body with his. “I want to explore every inch of your body with my hands and my lips, but I confess, I’m weak with need for you.”
“Me too,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, reveling in the weight of his body on hers.
“I’m desperate for you,” he said, a low sound that ended in a growl as she parted her thighs and he slid between them. “Ah, God…” he sighed as his cock slid through her wetness.
Gen thought she might explode if he didn’t take her soon. This aching hollowness could only be filled by him. Then he did fill her, sliding into her with one smooth, firm thrust. She couldn’t bite back the cry of pleasure that escaped her.
“Have I hurt you?”
“You never could,” she reassured him. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
“No, my darling, it’s you who are perfect.” He drew back and thrust in again, and this time, they both let out muffled sounds of pleasure. After that, there were no more words, just a symphony of sighs and moans, the muted sounds of their bodies coming together, their increasingly labored breathing.
The Notorious Lady Grantham: A Grantham Girls companion novella Page 5