Carlotta fawned over him, simpering and preening as she introduced him to two of her friends. He could still feel Calliope’s gaze, piercing and unwavering. A little smile ticked at the corner of his mouth while she fumed, her expression downright murderous when she glared at Lady Thrush.
Now, perhaps, she’d experienced a taste of what Nick had been wrestling with all these weeks. It would seem his goddess was jealous.
It took only one day of the house party for Calliope to discover that Lady Carlotta Thrush was capable of making the most annoying sound on Earth. She made it often, shattering the tranquil happiness Calliope usually derived from visiting her father’s home with screeching, shrill laughter. It filled the drawing room when the men and women came together for cards and charades, it rattled the china when they sat down for dinner, and it made her want to jam the knife of her place setting through her ear if only to make it stop.
By the end of the first night, she had already grown sick of the woman and her blatant flirtations—especially toward Dominick. Lady Thrush was not discreet, going out of her way to insinuate herself at his side every chance she got. The harpy had all but shoved Calliope out of the way to claim him as a dinner partner, upsetting the arrangements with no care for propriety. After the meal she’d declared quite loudly that she’d saved a place for him on the loveseat beside her in the drawing room.
Calliope had barely survived the evening with her dignity intact, beset with the urge to rip the woman’s hair out by the roots. Of course, this development should not bother Calliope in the least. In fact, she would be glad for him to set his sights on some other woman, one who clearly craved his attention.
And Martin was as charming as ever. He took advantage of Lady Thorpe’s upending of the seating to escort her to dinner. He made certain she had a sherry in hand once the men had come back into the company of the women after dinner, and generally ensuring she knew he intended to be an attentive husband.
Unfortunately, his efforts only annoyed her further, yet another reaction she could hardly make sense of.
“Lady Thrush is certainly … friendly,” Diana had whispered to Calliope as they’d watched the lady in question giggle and swat Dominick’s arm with her fan.
“She’s absolutely shameless,” Calliope hissed. “Why did Father even invite her? She’s no friend of mine or yours.”
“The aunts are friends with her mother, I think. Now that she’s out of mourning, the hope is that she can now begin the search for a new husband. Though, I doubt that’s what she wants with Mr. Burke.”
Oh, she knew exactly what the little strumpet wanted, and it put her teeth on edge.
Calliope glanced over to find her sister watching her in the most puzzling fashion.
“Oh, my God. I wasn’t certain, but you just confirmed it. You are jealous.”
“I am not!” Calliope protested, then winced when several pairs of eyes swiveled toward them. Clearing her throat, she took a sip of sherry and lowered her voice. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am only annoyed because he is being paid to give his attention to me.”
They sat far enough in the corner of the room that she could speak of the matter without worry. Martin had become engrossed in conversation with her father, for he had finally given up trying to coax Calliope out of her foul mood.
“To be fair, she isn’t giving him much of a chance to do his job,” Diana replied. “She sank her claws into him the moment he arrived and hasn’t let up. I daresay he looks rather uncomfortable with all the attention.”
Calliope dared a glance in their direction, only to find that Diana was right. Dominick seemed to be trying to pull away from Lady Thrush, who was holding him verbally hostage. He looked bored to tears.
“It should not matter, anyway,” Diana added lightly. “As you suspect Mr. Lewes will earn father’s approval and propose to you before the house party is over.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she snapped, finishing off the rest of her sherry with one swallow. “I do not care what Dominick does. In fact, I intend to tell him our arrangement is over at the first opportunity.”
Diana touched her hand, and this time when their gazes met, Calliope saw only understanding and empathy in her sister’s eyes.
“Oh, Callie.”
The weight of those words nearly put a crack in her hardened exterior, and Calliope’s eyes began to sting.
“Diana, please. I can’t …”
Diana gave her fingers a squeeze and nodded. “I understand. We can speak of it more in private, just know … I love you and I want you to be happy. Perhaps Mr. Lewes isn’t what you want after all. I need you to understand it’s all right if that is the case.”
“That’s just it. It cannot be Dominick. There are so many reasons—”
Her words choked off when Diana’s hand tightened painfully around hers, and Calliope realized why when she glanced up. Dominick stood before them, the firelight adding a fiery gleam to his hair and darkening his eyes.
“Begging your pardon, Lady Hastings,” he said, though his gaze never strayed from Calliope. “I was hoping I might have a word with Miss Barrington.”
Diana gave Calliope a questioning look, which she answered with an affirmative nod. There could be no harm in a conversation when the room was filled with other people.
“Of course,” Diana said, forced cheer ringing in her voice. She vacated the place at Calliope’s side and went to stand behind Hastings, who was intent upon his card game.
Dominick took her sister’s place, his spicy scent filling her nostrils. Biting her lip, she jerked her gaze away from him.
“Callie.”
His breath tickled her ear and the side of her neck, making her tense and hold her breath.
“Dominick,” she replied, the words bit out between clenched teeth.
“I need to speak with you.”
“We are talking right now.”
“Alone. Tonight.”
She sucked in a sharp inhale when his little finger touched hers, then slowly caressed down the side of it. Her belly quivered, that liquid heat flaring to life in her middle. A slow pulsation began between her legs, in that wondrous place he had teased with his fingers the night of the ball. She remembered the feel of his thigh, hard and solid as she’d rocked against him, his lips at her ear and his words painting such a vivid picture.
Letting out a slow, shaky breath, she fought for composure. This was ridiculous. Surely the innocuous touch of his finger against hers shouldn’t be enough to cause such an intense reaction.
“Please, Dominick … not now.”
To her surprise, he smiled at her, and she found him utterly captivating. This was the grin she liked best; the one without scorn, derision, or sarcasm. The one she could envision the boy Nick giving his mother, or the young man fresh out of university flashing at a girl he was sweet on. It tore her defenses to shreds.
“You cannot hide from me forever. We are to inhabit the same house for fourteen days, and I will have my say. The longer you avoid me, the more creative I will become in finding ways to get you off alone.”
Her lips twitched with a smile that she didn’t dare let him see. How dare he try to charm her after spending the day allowing that odious woman to flirt with him!
“I should think you’ll have your hands full with Lady Thrush.”
He laughed again, and this time it was loud enough to ensure everyone in the room knew she’d just said something highly amusing. Her cheeks grew hot as he draped his arm on the back of the sofa, allowing the tip of his finger to fall against her nape. With no one the wiser, he drew slow circles on her skin, sending little tremors of delight down her spine.
“Surely you don’t think I’m interested. No mortal woman will do for me, goddess. Not after I’ve tasted the heady sweetness that is you.”
She shot to her feet, but he remained where she’d left him, staring up at her with eyes that gleamed with amusement and defiance. He was all but daring her to latch onto his bait.
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Straightening her back and squaring her shoulders, she smoothed her expression into one that betrayed nothing.
“I’ll not risk my reputation traipsing about the house in the dead of night to meet you. If you wish to speak with me, you may do so tomorrow at an opportune time. Now, if you will excuse me …”
Calliope turned and crossed the room toward her great-aunts, both of whom were complaining of the late hour and the taxing afternoon spent in the company of others. She leaped at the chance to be free of the room and away from Dominick.
“Oh, do allow me to escort you, aunts. I find I am weary as well, and will go to my bed once I have seen you both upstairs.”
Aunt Louisa had left off her spectacles in favor of the lorgnette she preferred for evening dress. She peered at Calliope through it with narrowed eyes.
“Are you all right, dear? For a girl your age to complain of exhaustion so early in the evening … Why, even Diana is still in high spirits and she is in a delicate condition.”
“I think it is only the strain of entertaining so many guests. I will be just fine after a good night’s rest.”
“Leave the girl alone, Lou,” Doris grumbled, using a pearl-inlaid walking stick to rise to her feet. “A full day around this lot will tire even the sprightliest of ladies. Let us off to bed, then. If I am not free of these stays soon, I may burst.”
Scooping Horatius under one arm, Louisa hefted herself to her feet. “I told you not to eat so many of those tarts after dinner. But do you ever listen to me?”
Calliope offered each aunt an arm to lead them from the room, but was brought up short as Aunt Doris halted and raised her walking stick to point it in Dominick’s direction.
He remained where she’d left him, sprawled on the loveseat in the most indolent fashion, gaze still intently fixed on her. A teasing smile spread over his face as he noticed them, and Doris issued a disapproving ‘humph.’
“Watch out for that one. He’s got the look of a rake about him. Could ruin a woman with nothing more than a glance.”
It was a good thing a man’s wandering eye wasn’t enough to ruin a woman, or Calliope’s reputation would be in tatters. Dominick was looking at her as if waiting for his moment to pounce.
“A most unsuitable gentleman,” Louisa agreed.
Obviously realizing they were talking about him, Dominick widened his smile, then winked. Louisa gasped and Doris grunted, thumping her cane against the rug and tugging Calliope along.
“Impertinent,” she muttered.
“Indecent,” Louisa added, with a huff of agreement from Horatio.
Calliope breathed a sigh of relief once they were free of the room. By the time she’d seen the aunts to their bedchambers and began the walk to her own, she was weary from trying to determine what Dominick could possibly want to talk to her about.
She gave Ekta only half an ear while the woman helped ready her for bed, her stomach churning as she wondered just how she was going to survive another thirteen days in the forced company of Dominick Burke.
By the third day of the house party, Nick thought he might be tempted to kill someone. Who he decided to murder depended entirely on which of the two people annoying him at present found some way to further enrage him. Lady Thrush could take a hint about as well as a blind person could read a newspaper. The woman followed him about like a bitch in heat, even when he made his disinterest clear. And there was no question; he had no interest in the charms of Carlotta Thrush.
Of course, when she wasn’t giggling, simpering, and coming up with reasons to press her bosom against him, Martin Lewes was further aggravating him. The man was relentless, trailing Calliope as if he were afraid she would forget he existed should he happen to fall out of her line of sight. When he wasn’t about that, he was seeking out the viscount in a clear attempt at earning the man’s favor. Barrington bore it all with good humor, though from time to time when Lewes wasn’t looking, he rolled his eyes as if the overeager young man taxed him sorely.
For Nick’s part, he’d spent the better part of three days trying to get Calliope off alone without success. Every time he laid eyes on her, she was in the company of Lewes, her sister, her father, or one of her insufferable aunts. The two old biddies watched him like a pair of hawks, as if aware of his intentions and wanting him to know they did not approve. The words ‘lecher’ and ‘rake’ had been hissed at him whenever he stood within earshot, and the pug had nipped at his heels more than a few times.
Calliope remained as stubborn as ever, ensuring he knew she did not intend to make it easy for him. It only made him more determined. As well, the longer he was forced to watch her from a distance, the more he began to realize the truth she tried to hide from him. She didn’t hate him, nor did she love the precious Mr. Lewes. She was afraid—whether of him, the way he made her feel, or the choice she would soon face, Nick did not entirely know. But, he intended to find out.
The opportune moment presented itself quite by chance on the afternoon of the fourth day, during which a game of pall mall had been organized on the lawn of the house. Dominick had refrained from joining the game, despite being more than a fair hand with a mallet. He felt as if he had been holding his breath for days, and now his chest had begun to burn, his body trembling with the force of what built and swelled inside him.
He could take it no longer.
Watching the game from inside a sun room situated at the back of the house—with windows that offered a perfect view of the scenic grounds—Nick tracked Calliope’s movements. She walked on Lewes’s arm, her mallet held over one shoulder.
He began to pace, ignoring the curious gazes of those who had chosen to remain indoors. For once, Lady Thrush seemed to have given up her pursuit of him, leaving Nick unencumbered by her presence. Which, incidentally, left him the opening he needed.
He halted in his tracks when he noticed Calliope breaking away from the others, hanging her mallet on a nearby rack before taking her skirts in hand and making a quick escape. Nick watched with bated breath as she began making her way toward the house, her steps swift as if she were trying to outrun someone, or something.
Realizing no one intended to follow, Nick left the sun room with as much outward composure as he could muster. His pace quickened once he reached the corridor to find it empty, and by the time he arrived at the side of the house where he was certain Calliope had entered, he was at an all-out run.
He found her breezing toward him, having just entered the house.
She faltered at the sight of him, lips parting as her chest heaved with labored breath.
He closed the distance between them as she stood frozen, as if she either could not flee or didn’t want to. He had her now, taking firm hold of her arm and pulling her into a room across the corridor and slamming the door shut behind them and turning the lock.
She gasped when he whirled on her, pushing her against the door and trapping her with both hands pressed to the wood. Their gazes clashed, the defiance in her eyes melting away as he dipped his head with a rough sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed this until she was in his arms, her lips soft and pliant, body melting in supplication against the hard press of his. But, he had needed it so badly that now he’d tasted her again he didn’t think he could stop.
What he’d meant to be a brief meeting of lips transformed into something else entirely. When she opened her mouth to him, her sweet tongue darting against his lower lip, he broke, all his good intentions falling away until he was left with nothing but the need to utterly possess her.
He deepened the kiss, sealing his mouth over hers and plunging with his tongue, tasting, teasing, claiming. She met him with equal fervor, whimpering against his lips and giving in to his assault. He grasped her arms and slung them up around his neck, and she obeyed his silent command, fingers tangled in his hair so tight his scalp stung. Then, he was caressing his way down her body, his touch skimming her arms, her ribs, her waist, the flare of her hips.
> She wrenched her mouth away from his with a sharp cry, but he merely went on kissing her, nibbling his way down her cheek, along her jaw, down the slender column of her throat. Her pulse galloped against his tongue, and she sobbed when he latched on, drunk on the taste of her skin.
“Dominick,” she cried, hands holding fast to his head. “Please … I can’t.”
“You can,” he countered, nuzzling his way downward, clenching at her fichu with his teeth and yanking it free of her bodice, sending pins scattering to the floor. “You’re killing me, goddess. Every time you give him your smiles, your laughter, even so much as your hand touching his … I die a little bit more.”
Her fichu fell away, leaving soft mounds of golden flesh bare above her neckline. He’d gone mad, his knees weakening at nothing more than the sight of the tops of her breasts. He had seen countless women naked, had helped himself to the charms of so many he’d lost count. He’d experienced just about every pleasure there was to be had, from the tamest to the filthiest … and still, none of it compared to being allowed these tiny glimpses of her—her exposed throat, the wings of her collarbone, the swells of flesh at her neckline. If he ever managed to get her nude, Nick wasn’t certain he would survive it.
He literally ached for her, his cock painfully hard, his entire body wound so taut he feared a single touch would cause him to spontaneously combust.
Calliope gripped his shoulders, squirming and twisting away from him.
“If you are so desperate, why not take what Lady Thrush is so readily offering,” she snapped as he stepped away from her, albeit reluctantly. “I’m certain she, like every other woman you’ve ever looked at, would be more than happy to spread her legs for you.”
Nick pinched his lips, his shoulders trembling with the laughter he struggled to contain. “I don’t want Lady Thrush, or anyone else. Why do you think I’m here with you?”
“Because I am paying you to be, though I am not certain why when you’ve spent the last three days letting that woman fawn all over you!”
Making of a Scandal (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 3) Page 20