“You know full well, I had no ulterior motive.”
“If you did not, you must be mad.”
Ash shrugged. “Anna’s a lovely, beautiful woman but there has never been anything but friendship between us. If you were sensible, you’d accept the same.”
Harris poured himself another drink. “Well, we both know I am never one to be sensible.”
“That we do. But be cautious, brother. We have little to lose being the useless younger brothers of a marquess, but Anna does. She’s fought long and hard to get where she is.”
“I know that,” he snapped.
He really did not appreciate his brother lecturing him. Before his marriage to the lovely Lila, his brother’s life had been more of a mess than his own. He’d been inflicted with God-awful headaches and refusing to admit to them. It was only with Lila’s help that Ash had come to confess to his problems. The headaches weren’t gone, but at least people understood why when he vanished up to bed for hours. He only wished Ash had told him sooner.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Yes, thank you, Ash. Consider myself warned. Now, have you not got someone else to pester?”
Ash pressed his lips together in a terrible attempt at keeping back a smile. “I have never seen you so flustered.”
“I am not flustered. Women fluster. I do not fluster. I am...”
“What?”
“Damn sexually frustrated.”
A burst of laughter escaped Ash, and he clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I feel for you, Harris, I really do but I would not hold out hope over Anna. Why do you not go find a lovely widow in need of company? You are doing a fine job of scowling at just about everyone in the room.”
“Don’t think I have not considered it,” he said through clenched teeth.
But, the truth was, no woman would do. He’d known that for a while but now it was certain—ingrained on his soul. He would not find peace until he’d been with Anna. The deep, empty hunger in his gut told him so.
Hartledge made an announcement of joining the women, and Ash tapped his shoulder. “Looks like you can go brood over Anna again.”
“You’re lucky you’re my brother,” Harris muttered.
He knew Ash was getting a little revenge. He could not deny he’d flirted a little with Lila when they’d been looking after her and why not? She was a lovely, sweet woman in need of a little flirtation. As far as he was concerned, his attention had only encouraged Ash to pursue her.
Really, his brother should be grateful.
They moved into the larger drawing room. Most of the women occupied the sofas, their various jewel shades clashing with the deep pink of the furniture and the garish shades of blue on the walls. Hartledge’s house had been decorated by his late wife, and he’d never had the heart to change it according to rumour. It really did look as though a child had designed it.
Only one woman looked perfect.
Anna.
She sat perched on the end of a chair, her hands clenched tightly together. The stiffness to her posture couldn’t diminish how stunning she was. His heart gave a lurch. From the tiny pearls in her coiled hair to the toes of her ruby red shoes, she had him in awe.
Her gaze clashed with his. Something cracked through the air like a bolt of lightning. The awareness that there was sadness in her eyes struck him hard. Had the women been so very awful to her? He noted the slightly ashen cast to her skin and his heart jolted again, but for different reasons. This was not desire, it was...compassion?
Anna murmured something to the lady next to her then stood. She hastened out of the room without a backwards glance. Was it him? Had he sent her running? He had to know.
Heedless of the fact people would be watching him, he went after her, pushing through the door and shutting it gently behind him. A corridor led to the various state rooms. He paused. The tap of heels on the tiled floor rang out further ahead so he went through the next door. Anna froze ahead of him when she heard it open.
Windows lined the hallway, letting in a milky glow. Shadows lingered in the corners. Anna appeared like the most beautiful ghost he had ever seen. She twisted slowly and her shoulders dropped a little.
“Harris.”
“What’s wrong, Anna?” He took the opportunity to close the gap between them.
“I’m leaving, Harris. Go back to the party.”
“Not until you tell me what is the matter.”
Tears sparkled in her gaze when she lifted her dark eyes to his. The tight feeling in his chest near suffocated.
“Just go,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper.
He heard the held back grief. What could have happened? “Did someone insult you? Dishonour you? Because, by God, I’ll—”
“No.” She shook her head vigorously. “No, nothing like that.”
“Is it me? Did I offend you?”
She gave him a weak smile. “Must everything be about you, Harris?”
“Damn it, Anna, tell me what is wrong and I shall fix it for you.”
“There is nothing you can do. There is—” her voice cracked. She hastily pulled out a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed her face. More tears followed.
“Bloody hell,” he whispered.
Voices sounded from the hallway behind them so he took her arm and pulled her into the room to the side of them. It turned out to be a study area, with the walls lined with books. He strode over and pushed the curtains a little farther open to release more light. The room didn’t look to have electricity installed, and he didn’t have a box of matches on him to light the lamps.
He eased Anna over to the chair by the window and urged her to sit. Something had to be wrong indeed if she let him coax her about. Harris kneeled in front of her and took the handkerchief from her hand to wipe away the tears. Lifting her chin, he used the moonlight to inspect her face. He dabbed under her eyes once more then handed it back. She bunched the fabric between her hands and stared at it.
“What can I do?” Never before had he felt so powerless, not even when he’d been shot in the leg and was laid prostrate for days on end.
“There is nothing you can do.”
“Why do you cry?”
“Because there is nothing I can do either.” She sniffed. “All this power I supposedly have, and yet I’m still not in control of my life.”
Harris didn’t know what to say to this. He had never really realised what women went through in life—all the judgement and scorn. Having grown up with brothers and a distant mother, it had not occurred to him women faced tougher trials than even people like his brother Julian who had inherited the title.
He smoothed a hand across her cheek for want of anything else to do. Her skin was soft and damp. He pressed a thumb under her eye to catch another tear. The need to do something, say something burned his gut.
It was clear Anna did not want to tell him what had made her sad, and he didn’t know how else to ask. God dammit, it seemed he was utterly clueless when it came to women. And here he’d thought he was quite the expert on them.
Her gaze came to his, soft and sad. He had to remove that look somehow. Harris lifted his other hand and cupped her face, using his fingers to gently sweep along her cheeks in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. It didn’t work. More tears fell.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered to himself as her face crumpled.
Standing, he dragged her up into his arms and clamped her to his chest. She didn’t fight him. Anna curled her fingers into his lapel and pressed her face to his neck. He was transported back to when she’d been breathing heavily against his skin from the aftermath of her orgasm, yet he took no pleasure in this. He could not even think on how perfectly her body fit against him. All he wanted was to cure her pain.
He held her for some time, listening to the gentle tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. Whoever had been walking down the corridor had been and gone. He hoped no one searched for him. They would likely think he had gone after Anna, bu
t he didn’t much care now. Hopefully Anna wouldn’t either.
She sobbed quietly against him. His collar grew damp from her tears. Her delicate body shuddered with each sob. All he could do was hold her tightly and smooth his hands up and down her back. Gradually her body softened and the tears slowed. Another few minutes and they were gone. She drew in a deep breath and eased back to look up at him.
Powerless. Utterly powerless. He probably had been since the moment he first met her.
Her lips begged him, her eyes pleaded with him. It did not matter how wrong it was to kiss an upset woman, he had no choice.
Their lips met. He tasted salty tears. She gasped. He recognised her hunger there. She needed this as much as he did. Bringing his hands up to cup the back of her neck and her face, he sampled her slowly, carefully. This hunger was different. A need to savour and enjoy drove him. Her tongue swept against his, and he kissed her deeply.
Bodies as close as could be, they kissed until the chime of the clock told them it was midnight. Harris paused, glanced at the clock and then at the woman in front of him. It was a new day, but he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.
She remained still in his arms. There were no words, no declarations of her never touching him again. Nothing had changed since the last ding of the clock. He took the chance and kissed her again. Anna softened into him once more and pushed her fingers into his hair. He groaned when she dragged her fingernails down the back of his neck, eliciting a tingle of anticipation to race down his spine.
Her hands skimmed down his dinner jacket and slipped underneath it. She worked at the buttons of his waistcoat while he peppered kisses across her face and nipped at her neck. She tilted her head and gave him better access to the sweetly scented flesh there. Harris continued his kisses down to where her gown hung from her shoulders.
“God, Anna, you are insanely beautiful.”
She didn’t respond or simper, only continued to undo his waistcoat. She stepped back to push off his jacket and waistcoat, leaving him in his shirt. Coming close again, she kissed his neck and set to work on his necktie.
It had been a long time since a woman had undressed him—after all it was usually he who was doing the undressing—but it gave him time to drink in the sight of her, so he let her do as she wished with him. The truth was, she could strip him down and tie him to a damn chair and leave him looking the biggest fool in London, and he’d let her.
Anna’s fingers pressed to the revealed V of flesh at his collar. He dragged in a breath. Her cool fingers somehow singed him. He needed to feel them over the rest of his skin and wrapped around his agonising cock. And he needed to repay the favour, to feel the tender skin on the inside of her thighs without the barrier of drawers, to be able to cup her breasts freely, to taste them at his leisure. Really, he needed her in his bed. But this study room would have to do.
He plucked at his cufflinks and helped her ease off his shirt. She spread her palms over his chest and down his stomach. The leg wound had left him weaker than before, but he’d been blessed with a fairly low maintenance body. Nevertheless, he hoped she liked what she saw.
Her gaze met his. Her tongue darted out over the bottom of her lip. “I never thought of men as beautiful before.”
He couldn’t help chuckle.
“You are beautiful, Harris.”
“Alas, my beauty is nothing compared to yours.”
A hint of a blush radiated on her cheeks so that even in the moonlight, he could see it. He cupped her cheek. “For a woman of the world, you blush easily, Anna.”
“In spite of everything, I am not really a woman of the world.” She stared at his stomach while tracing the lines in it, causing his muscles to flex involuntarily. “I’ve had very few lovers.”
“You don’t need to worry,” he told her, bringing her close, “I’ll be gentle. I shall make this perfect for you, I swear.”
She nodded and kissed him. The trust in her gaze had him fit to burst. Why a woman like Anna had had so few lovers, he had no idea, but if that meant he was to be one of those few, he would ensure she never forgot it.
He coaxed her back toward the study table and lifted her onto it. If he wanted to, he could take her hard and fast. The fact that they were half-clothed in someone else’s study meant he probably should.
Every time he’d pictured it with Anna, he had thought of it that way. They’d tear at each other’s clothes and go at it fast and furious. However, the deep, burning need driving him was no longer the same. Yes, he wanted to be inside her more than anything in the world but he wanted to bring her the comfort and care she needed. Anna lived a hard life and she deserved something soft and beautiful.
Harris dropped down to his knees again and drew off her heels. He skimmed a finger up her thigh to trace the ribbon of her stockings. He pushed up her skirts and petticoats enough that he could see the pale line of flesh between her drawers and stockings.
Unable to resist, he placed several kisses there. A noise rose in his throat—a sort of primal but quiet roar. Hell, she tasted so good, was so soft.
“I could spend hours kissing your body,” he told her, meeting her gaze while he pulled the ribbon first from one stocking then the next.
Rolling them down, he pulled them off her legs and stood. Though taking her stockings off was likely a terrible waste of time, he wanted to feel her bare legs against him.
He pressed his hands under her rear and found the waistband of her drawers. He tugged them down and urged her to lift her bottom so he could remove them entirely. The movement thrust her whole body forward and lifted her cleavage in tempting invitation. Discarding her drawers on the floor, he took her face in his hands and moved in between her legs.
He lowered his lips to her, savouring the petal soft touch of her mouth. Breathing in the delicate scent of her and skimming a hand down the side of her neck and back up, he nudged his other hand between her legs and watched her eyes flutter closed when his fingers met her sensitive flesh.
Harris watched the pleasure play out on her face. She gripped his forearms and sighed. He worked her bud until she was rocking into his hand then he pressed two fingers inside her. A groan escaped him. God, he couldn’t wait to be inside her.
She opened her eyes at the sound from him and released her grip. Whilst he continued to make her arch and tremble, she fumbled with his trousers to open them. His arousal peeked above his drawers, straining for her touch. And she gave it to him. The sweet bliss of her first touch to his manhood had him drawing in a breath through his teeth. The harsh hiss echoed through the quiet room.
“Anna,” he groaned, his movements faltering.
She answered him by grasping his shaft and easing it out of his undergarments. Her movements stilled when he pressed his palm against her sex, moving it in circles in time with his fingers as he plunged them in and out. She regained a little of her composure and wrapped her hand about his cock.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
She began to move her hand over his heated flesh. A tingling sensation hit the base of his spine and the relief mingled with delicious agony. More than ever before, he needed to be joined with her.
Anna locked her gaze onto his and they pleasured each other until Anna’s thighs began to shake. She was close, so very close. Her body began tightening around him. He couldn’t take much more of her ministrations so he pressed her hand away and eased his fingers from her body.
“I want to be inside you when you come.”
She nodded frantically and drew him close. He kissed her with reverence and gripped her hips. They moaned simultaneously when he joined them. His mind went hazy for a moment, his body taken over by the pure, unadulterated pleasure. He couldn’t recall such a moment ever having such an impact on him.
Staring into her eyes, watching the moonlight flicker over her skin and feeling her body pulse around him, Harris began to move. He slid in and out of her with no need for haste. Every single moment had to be treasured. This had
to be about her. He was never a selfish lover, but his pleasure had certainly become negligible. The only thing that mattered was Anna.
“Harris,” she breathed. “Oh God.”
He gave her an unsteady kiss, continuing to press into her body until he was buried so deep, he didn’t know where either of them began or ended. The sense that this was where he was always intended to be washed over him and no part of his mind seemed willing to fight that.
So he surrendered to it. He thrust in and out of her, kissing her cheeks, her lips, her forehead. Her grip tightened on him while her body did the same. Cries escaped her and anyone listening in would know what they were doing.
He didn’t care and nor did she by the looks of it. Anna closed her eyes and let him take her over the edge. She released a long moan and her body jerked, trembled, then relaxed.
Harris bundled her close, tucking her against him while he continued to move inside her. She murmured his name several times against his skin and his heart gave a spasm.
The edge came quickly now that she was spent. Quicker than he’d have liked, if truth be told, as he could have remained inside her forever. The fiery bliss burned through his body and likely scorched his soul. When he came, he pressed an unsteady kiss to her forehead and spilled onto her thigh.
“Oh, Harris,” she said, smoothing her hands up and down his back in soothing motions.
He held her for several moments, their breaths rasping in the empty room. Whilst he cleaned them both up, he met her gaze. He’d been half-expecting the shutters to have come down but she remained open. This soft and languid Anna had him captive and he couldn’t help ask with too much eagerness, “When shall I see you again?”
Chapter Eight
It was madness. She was mad, Anna told herself. She glanced eagerly out of the carriage to see she was still five streets away from Harris’ townhouse. Her heart pounded sickeningly in her chest, yet the excitement would not be dampened.
By some miracle, she had managed to persuade herself not to invite Harris back to her hotel last night. She had done many things she didn’t wish to do in her life but that was harder than she’d thought possible. She had, however, assuaged him by agreeing to come to his house in the afternoon.
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