The Seduction of His Wife

by Tiffany Clare

  Amazing how calm his voice was when he was anything but calm inside. He wanted to demand every detail of her relationship with Vane. Wanted to ask someone where the duke could be found so he could pummel the blighter into the floor.

  His thoughts turned uglier by the minute. There was a word for it. Jealousy. Quite possible he was jealous of a man who’d spent time with his wife over the years, when he’d been off ruining the lives of innocent people.

  The duke walked down the grand staircase that led up to the boxes, his harlot on his arm. Richard took Emma’s hand in his and pulled her through the throng. Her lemonade sloshed over the rim of her glass, wetting her gloves. She covered up the mishap with a chuckle and hurried by his side, not that he gave her much choice.

  Richard cut through the reeking swath of society and set his eyes upon the formidable height of the duke. The duke must have known something was afoot, because he bowed to Emma. “My lady, always a pleasure to be in your company.”

  The man had the audacity to take his wife’s hand and kiss her knuckles. Straightening, the duke raised a disdainful brow at Richard. “Asbury.”

  Vane turned to his woman, patting her hand where it rested upon his arm. The ladybird was rather beautiful, her hair a shade darker than his wife’s, her eyes a deep blue. The woman’s curves were more pronounced than Emma’s. Somehow, she looked familiar. Had he met her somewhere before?

  “Anna, sweetheart.” The duke’s words cut off Richard’s observations. “Get us some refreshments.”

  She slipped away without another word or glance at her protector.

  “We have many things to discuss, Duke.”

  Guests at the theater were starting to eye their party. He was making a scene and couldn’t seem to help himself. His quick temper was ruining his carefully laid plans for their future. All because he was jealous of this pompous arse.

  “No need to draw unwanted attention our way, Asbury. I would be happy to call on you at your residence.”

  “You’ll not come anywhere near my wife.” The words were too low to be heard by observers, which surprised him, because he was feeling anything but rational right now.

  “I must apologize,” Emma cut in with a stern, clipped voice. “My husband is not himself since he’s been home. Traveling for so long and mingling with other cultures has made him unfit company for polite society.”

  She pulled her arm from Richard’s and gave the duke a curtsy. “I will leave you gentlemen to talk. Anna will be looking for company, and I’m all too happy to oblige.”

  She looked about the room, then leaned close to Richard as if they were having intimate words. “Let their tongues wag, Richard. You ought to be ashamed of the way you’re acting.”

  He ignored her parting barb and focused on the duke as Emma walked away. “You have put me in an awkward position, Vane.”

  “Only as awkward as you make it.” The duke leaned against the wall as though discussing someone else’s wife was a conversation one normally partook in.

  Then it hit Richard. Now that he’d thought on it, he knew where he’d seen the duke’s mistress. He turned about the room to look for his wife and Vane’s mistress. That woman bore a striking resemblance to the nude portrait Emma had painted. The duke most certainly knew of his wife’s pastime.

  Could this mean he’d found his wife’s buyer? Could it be so easy as that? He still wondered if there was more to the relationship between Emma and the duke. He wondered to what extent the intimacy ran between them.

  “You are a bad association for my wife.”

  “Is that supposed to convince me to cut off all ties I have to her?” the duke asked sardonically.

  Richard looked his foe over. “How is it you befriended my wife?” He was feeling possessive, jealous to the extreme. It niggled that this man knew his wife better than he.

  “A rather entertaining story. I ran Emma over a potted plant. Quite literally.”

  “You are no longer on a first-name basis with my wife.”

  The duke gave him a sly smile. “That’ll be her choice. I’ve known her a good number of years. Many more than you’ve bothered to come around for. Our friendship goes back too many years to ignore.”

  “I’ve been married to her longer than you’ve known her,” he felt the need to point out. “Her personal life is none of your concern.”

  “I never said it was. You, on the other hand, did.”

  “We are at an impasse.” Richard felt like the pompous arse now.

  He tried searching out his wife amongst the gathering without success.

  “She and Anna will have found some private corner to talk,” the duke said. “Anna, as I’m sure you noticed, is not the sort to mingle freely with the others in attendance.”

  “My wife shouldn’t be consorting with her, either.”

  “I cannot stop your wife from befriending my mistress. As unusual as it is, it just is. Be careful that you don’t insult my woman. I’ll not have her slighted by your high-handed opinion.”

  The protectiveness the duke displayed for the harlot seemed to calm Richard’s blood. The man wasn’t in the running for his wife’s affections. Hell, he didn’t even know if he himself was in the running for her affections.

  The champagne-colored feathers in Emma’s hair danced like a ballerina on air as she and the ladybird approached. They had another gentleman with them. He looked like a younger version of Vane.

  Emma took Richard’s proffered arm.

  “We found Teddy,” the duke’s mistress said.

  “I came to pay my regards,” the younger man said. “I should have known you’d be in the family box. Surprised you weren’t en masse.”

  The duke gave a low throaty laugh and gave the man an affectionate embrace. Brothers perhaps? “This is a family affair. Teddy is being modest.”

  “He’s sharp on the violin; a Beethoven in his own right,” Anna chimed in.

  “I’m sure you’ve guessed this is my brother, Thaddeus de Burgh, Viscount of Sheffield. Though he’s liable to curse you for using his title. So unbecoming for a titled man to play the part of a starving violinist and composer.”

  Thaddeus seemed to redden with his brother’s introduction.

  The young man offered his hand hesitantly. Richard didn’t think anything in taking it. Richard had met people from so many walks of life and varying cultures in his former trade that a handshake wasn’t just for commoners.

  “You must be the countess’s husband,” the young man said. “My brother speaks highly of her.”

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said stiffly. It was hard not to pinch his lips together in disapproval. Every tidbit of information he learned about the relationship between the duke and his wife irritated him further.

  “My brother is recently back from Vienna. He trained with Mendelssohn and Schumann in Leipzig since he was a youth.” The duke was obviously proud of his younger brother. His brother frowned and looked as though he wished to hide in the back room until he took to the stage.

  “I’m eager to see his performance. I confess to not reading the whole program.” Emma had likely been too distracted by the duke’s presence. She turned to de Burgh. “Do you play your own composition tonight?”

  “Yes, a jovial piece. Something to end the evening on a high note.”

  A bell chimed, indicating the intermission coming to a close. Richard took his wife’s arm through his and bowed to the duke and his companion.

  “It was good to catch up with you, Anna.” Emma clasped the other woman’s hand familiarly. “Please don’t be a stranger. I couldn’t bear staying in London for an extended period of time without having your company.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of avoiding you.”

  After addressing Emma, the harlot turned to the duke with a look of complete adoration. Or was it respect and affection in her loving gaze that threw him off a step—quite literally. Definitely not a look his wife had ever given him.

  “We should
return to our seats,” Anna finished.

  Richard made his bow. “We’ll meet again in the near future. We have business to discuss.”

  The business of his wife’s paintings.

  Richard was so close to putting this nightmare to rest that he grinned.

  “Absolutely.” The duke nodded, caressing the arm of his mistress, and left for his box.

  She might have had an affair with the man at one point in their long friendship, but he doubted she’d be friends with Vane’s mistress had she still been having an affair with the man. He had misjudged his wife. Things were starting to become clearer. He hadn’t necessarily come out of that conversation on top of the situation, but he’d correct that once he met with the duke privately.

  Instead of leading Emma back to their box, he planted a firm, passionate kiss on her lips. She clasped onto his arms as he stroked his tongue into her mouth.

  “What—”

  Before she could speak another word he kissed her again. Gasps and the sharp whispers of the other guests sounded. Richard didn’t care. It might put to rest the rumor of her affair with the duke. All he wanted was to get his wife home.

  “He won’t sell the paintings to you.”

  “I can be quite convincing.”

  “Vane is used to getting his own way.”

  “So am I.” And with that he ushered her from the opera house and to his waiting carriage.

  * * *

  Emma was taking out the last of her pins and putting them in a small porcelain dish. She brushed her hair out at the vanity. She’d been content in ignoring him since her maid had left fifteen minutes ago. She knew her husband desired only one thing: for her to join him in bed. She’d not make this easy for him.

  “It’s always going to be about the paintings between us, isn’t it?”

  His fingers rubbed along his jaw. “Not necessarily.”

  “Why won’t you let the topic rest then?”

  “Because my wife’s name is attached to indecent nudes.”

  “Why is it so important to stir up the waters where my paintings are concerned? You’ll draw suspicion to us in ferreting them out.”

  Aside from the one painting Vane was having little success in purchasing from Waverly. She’d fished the details of the acquisition out of Anna when they were at the musicale. Waverly still refused to sell it. He refused to even see the duke about negotiating a price. This was not going as she had planned.

  Richard leaned forward on the bed, putting his elbows on his knees and his head in his open palms to rub his eyes.

  He then stood from the bed and made his way over to her, stripping out of his shirt and tossing it to the floor. When he was behind her, he took the brush from her hands and set himself to cleaning up the locks of hair that had tangled together. His actions were surprising and had her stomach fluttering in nervousness. They didn’t generally share in this type of intimacy.

  “What is it you plan to do—or maybe I should ask what have you done with the money?”

  She frowned at him in the reflection of the mirror. “I’ll answer your question if you’ll answer mine.”

  He shrugged and separated her hair down the middle so he was brushing smaller sections. “The idea of what I imagine men doing while ogling your work bothers me. Simple as that.”

  Emma turned around on the stool. The pieces of hair he held slid from his fingers as she tipped her head back to look up at him. He put his finger her under the chin and leaned forward to brush their lips together.

  “Are you jealous?” she asked.

  “Maybe a little.”

  Her heart sped up with the admission.

  “Emma, do you realize those paintings serve one purpose for a man? They’re likely purchased so the buyer can get a good rub off when he’s alone.”

  “It’s none of my business what they do once they’ve bought them.”

  He took her hands and had her stand before him. She wore a negligee of the finest thinnest silk tonight.

  “The paintings all auctioned for over a thousand pounds.”

  “I can manage that amount of money. It won’t break me to buy them all back.”

  “Well over a thousand pounds each.”

  He laughed, and kissed her. “You are a marvelous woman.”

  “Richard?” She wondered how that made her marvelous.

  “A woman after my own heart. One who can match my ability in turning a profit. We are well matched, wife. Very well matched.”

  “I shouldn’t tell you this, but I will: The duke purchased fifteen of those paintings because they are of Anna.”

  “Hence the reason he’ll not sell them back to me.”

  “Yes.”

  He kissed her soundly on the mouth, his hands cupping either side of her face. “He can keep them, but I will find the other paintings. I will make it clear to the duke that I don’t care if he wants a reminder of his mistress every time he turns around. Now tell me what it is you’ve done with the money.”

  “Nothing. It sits in a trust. I’ve not spent one ha’penny of it.”

  “It’s the fact that you are doing something you shouldn’t that provides the thrill, I daresay.” He shook his head. “I still want the rest of your pictures for myself.”

  She raised her brow in question. “And whatever will you do when you are alone with them?”

  “You see,” he said, pushing her satin robe from her shoulders, “I’ve completely debauched you.”

  “Very true,” she said, pouting out her lower lip and fanning her lashes at him. “But are you sure I haven’t completely scandalized you?” She sank to her knees in front of him and proceeded to release the buttons on his trousers.

  He looked down at her, mouth open in shock. “Emma?”

  “Richard?”

  She gave him a devilish smile as she yanked his trousers down over his hips. She had trouble pulling down his smalls, his erection strained so tightly against the material. Richard helped her by pressing the stiffness to his stomach.

  It was much more intimidating at eye level. It had to be the same thickness as her wrist. It wouldn’t be easy to do what she planned. But she’d not be stopped. She wet her lips with her tongue.

  “What are you about?”

  Instead of answering, she licked his cock from his sac all the way up to the tip. This would not be easy on her knees. He was simply too big. She stood and pressed her fingers into his torso, making him walk backward as she advanced.

  She didn’t know what came over her. She’d never dared to act so forward, so in control. She’d not hand over the reins now that she had them firmly in her grasp.

  Richard stopped at the bed. Eyes feasting on her feminine wares. She stood still for his inspection. Savoring the moment. It was a powerful feeling being wanted so desperately by a man.

  “I can see your mount of Venus tickling the material softly between your thighs. I wonder if I’ll find it dewy.” He licked his lips with the suggestion.

  Her nipples peaked to firm points. Unbidden, a half moan, half squeak escaped her mouth at the naked desire in his perusal.

  She wanted to press her naked body against his. Rubbing and sating their flesh with touch and taste. What a beautiful man he was. All sleek hardness, an athletic, lean build promising strength, stamina. Pleasure. So much pleasure.

  She took another step toward him. The tip of her lace-covered breasts brushed against his bare chest. She resolved then that she’d put shyness on the shelf for the evening and learn her husband’s body as he had learned hers: with her hands, her lips, her tongue.

  With a light kiss to his mouth, she pushed him back on the bed. He pulled her down on top of him, refusing to release her mouth for a gentle sweeping of his tongue. His fingers were busy pulling the silk garment she wore up her legs, her buttocks, her back. He held it there in his fists waiting for her to decide what to do.

  She broke the kiss so he could remove the negligee. Before he could take possession of her mouth again, s
he scooted slowly down on her knees so she could feast on his cock with her eyes and her mouth. She sucked the head of his instrument into her mouth, laving around it with her tongue.

  The head of his cock emitted a pearly drop of semen. She ran her tongue over that slit, massaging it with the edge of her tongue and then flattening her tongue against the smooth skin and sucking him farther into her mouth.

  A moan escaped her as she took him in deeper. Richard let out a groan and pressed his hand to her head, urging her on. Urging her to suck him in faster and deeper. She rode his length with her mouth, her hand fisting the base of his cock as she did so. Her fingers explored the soft skin it stroked, then she rolled the balls in his sac together. The sac tightened in her hold.

  “Emma. Come off me.”

  She shook her head. She liked this too much to stop. He liked it, too, if the thrusting of his hips was anything to judge by.

  “I’ll not come in your mouth.” He sat up and pulled her up off his cock.

  She pouted out her bottom lip. He nipped at it. Flipping her to her back, he bit the side of her breast, sucked in her nipple, and thrust his fingers inside her core. She felt her own wetness coating her thighs.

  His rod soon replaced his fingers and he rode her hard and fast. One of his hands wrapped around her hair, pulling it so tight in his fist that her head arched back. His other hand squeezed her buttock so hard she was sure she’d have an imprint of his hand there come morning.

  She reached around to hold him close, grasping his buttocks. They flexed in her hands with each push forward into her sheath. She felt her orgasm. It was so close she grasped the cheeks of his rear tighter. She wanted him deeper.

  “Harder. Oh, God, harder,” she moaned.

  Richard’s mouth caught hers in a fierce kiss as he drove into her harder. Just as she’d begged.

  Her body strained against his, needing to be closer, needing something more when finally she exploded. A spurt of fluid rushed from her; she felt it coating him and her thighs, dripping between her buttocks. He shouted out his release soon after. His weight did not fall down on her. He held himself above her, let go of her hair, and kissed her gently, tenderly on the mouth.