A Season for Scandal

by Golden Angel

  Josie

  Pacing back and forth across her room, Josie muttered deprecations under her breath. The hour grew later and later, and simultaneously, she grew more worried and angrier. Where the devil was her husband?

  Uncle Oliver had been unconcerned at Elijah’s absence before he turned in for the night, Adam was out gallivanting, and Joseph was who knows where, and she truly did not care. If Uncle Oliver were still awake, he might have been more concerned now that it was half-past three, and Elijah was still nowhere in sight. Or perhaps he would assume Elijah was off with another woman.

  Josie was sure he would not do that. He had agreed it was to be the two of them working together.

  Hadn’t he?

  Or was she the only one who had taken their discussion at Lady Greywood’s to mean that? Josie’s frown deepened. They would definitely be having another discussion when he finally deigned to appear.

  Her head tilted to the side. Was that a noise next door? In Elijah’s room?

  She rushed to the adjoining door, not bothering to press her ear against it, and jerked it open. If no one was there, then no one to see her making a fool of herself.

  She had not been wrong—he had returned. The carefully prepared lecture she’d formulated in her mind during her long wait flew out of her head when she got a good look at his bloodied torso and arms. His white shirt, hanging from his waist, was stained with blood, and the red was streaked across his skin as well. She shrieked and launched herself toward him, hands out in front of her. She drew back at the last moment, not quite touching him as her eyes darted over his body, looking for injuries.

  “What happened?!” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded impossibly shrill, making Elijah wince.

  “Hush.” For once, Josie did not take offense at his admonition because it was not said with authority but rather like a little boy trying not to draw attention to himself. They had their own wing of the house, but he had not called any of the servants to him or gone to his father or brothers for help. He had snuck into his room and was trying to tend to his wounds himself.

  The twit.

  Pressing her lips together, Josie shook her head at him as he ineffectually dabbed the injury on his side with a damp cloth. The water in the wash bin next to him was already tinged pink with his blood.

  “You need a doctor.” She took the cloth from him and rubbed it over the wound, making him hiss. Looking at the laceration, she made a face. “Though it is not too deep, a stitch or two would not go amiss.” Silence met her words, and she glanced up to look at him. He was staring down at her with an expression she had never seen on his face.

  “A stitch or two?” He echoed her words as if he could not believe he had heard them.

  “Yes.” She looked down again and lifted the cloth, bending her head to look even closer. The bleeding had slowed substantially. She glanced at the other wounds she could see, but they had already stopped bleeding and looked far more shallow. “If you insist on not calling the doctor, I can do it myself, but I should warn you, it has been a while. The others appear to only need a bandage.”

  “It has been a while?” He sounded half-strangled, and Josie looked up at him in concern as he repeated her words for a second time.

  “Yes. Did you take a blow to the head as well?” Straightening up, she went onto her tiptoes, trying to see.

  Elijah

  The moment was utterly surreal. Dressed in a lacy pink nightrail and wrapper, Josie was on her tiptoes, trying to see his head after she had just closely inspected his wound. Not only that, but she seemed completely confident in her ability to stitch his wounds when the entirety of Derbyshire knew of her disdain for needlework. Josie was not the type to sit about embroidering if she could help it. Yet she thought to stitch his wound? Plus, her assessment of his injuries matched his, which was even more startling.

  “Since when do you stitch anything?” he asked, almost affronted he had not known that about her.

  “Stitching cloth is boring. Bend your head down, so I can see if you have any injury.” The brisk way she was bossing him around made him feel this was not the first time she had tended someone’s wounds. But when the devil had she done it?

  “My head is fine.” He brushed off her hands, taking back the cloth from her at the same time. Josie put her hands on her hips, scowling up at him. “I am wondering who taught you to stitch flesh when you are so well known for your abysmal needlework.”

  “Evie, of course.”

  “Evie?!”

  “If all you are going to do is repeat what I say, you might as well keep your mouth shut and let me work.” She snatched the cloth from him and hung it on the side of the washbasin, then picked up a dry one and pressed it to his wound. The amount of pressure she put on it was surprising with its force.

  Elijah tried not to scowl. It was not her fault his cousin was a hellion who had had to learn lessons he would rather not think of. After the death of his aunt and uncle, Evie’s parents, she had disappeared into the streets of London. It had been mere chance of fate that had allowed his father to find her again, years later, and by then, she had changed so much from the sweet, well-loved little girl she had been. She’d had to in order to survive.

  He did not like to think about that time or how they had all grieved, worried, and searched. What they had gone through could not compare to what Evie had, and he did not like to think of that, either. It was also annoying to discover his cousin had more skills she had neglected to share with her family.

  She was like a magpie, except instead of hoarding shiny objects—though she did that too, come to think of it—she hoarded facts about herself, especially about the time she spent on the streets.

  “I did not know Evie had such skills, either,” he grumbled. Josie laughed lightly, lifting the pad of cloth slightly to peek under it again.

  “Well, we did do our best to keep you out of things,” she said teasingly. “After all, you would have stopped us if you had known half of what we got up to.”

  Groaning, Elijah covered his eyes with one hand. “I do not want to know.”

  “No, you probably do not. Now, am I stitching this or not?”

  “Yes, please.” He was too curious to deny her, and she was correct. A stitch or two would help it heal better and faster. He did not want to call in the doctor, or else the servants would tell his father. Then his father would want to know what happened, and Elijah would have to admit he’d gone into the Warrens without his ‘guards.’

  The fact he had a better chance of finding out more on his own than with two more lords at his side would not sway his father’s anger nor make up for the breach of trust. The only reason his father did not worry was he was sure Elijah would never do something so stupid. Now, he was paying the price, and he did not want his father to know.

  Watching Josie work was almost hypnotic, especially since he was now wildly curious about this previously unknown skill of hers. By the time she was done, his wounds were cleaned, the two stitches were in place, the throbbing was painful but tolerable, and he was even more impressed with her skills.

  “There.” She stepped back and crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows. Sitting shirtless on the side of his bed, Elijah felt caught out, like a naughty schoolboy whose misdeeds had been discovered. “Now you can tell me where on earth you have been and what happened. If you do not, I will tell Uncle Oliver all about your injuries.”

  Bloody hell. Elijah scowled before he could halt the reaction, revealing how effective her threat was. Fortunately, he had had some time to think about how he would explain his injuries while she was patching him up. She had been so focused, she had not asked until now. Before he returned home, he had thought he would need to avoid her bed until he was healed, so at least that was no longer an issue, but he had known he would have to tell her something.

  “Footpads. I was deep in thought and not paying attention to where I was going.”

  “And where were you going?” She scowled at him,
a hint of jealousy in her expression, and Elijah realized she thought he might have gone to see another woman.

  “Nowhere,” he said hastily, not wanting to spark her ire.

  Knowing how he felt when it came to her and Joseph, he would not wish that upon her. It would not help his cause if he ever had a hope of winning her over. Josie had already spent years trying to get Joseph’s attention, only to have him fall in love with another woman. Elijah meant to be a contrast to that, especially after her reaction to his attendance at the Society of Sin.

  “After my dinner at White’s, I went for a walk. Sometimes, I need to walk and wander to gather my thoughts.” That actually was true, though he had not had the opportunity to do it much of late.

  “Could you not have at least told me where you were going? Or that you would be out walking and not to worry?” Uncrossing her arms, she put her hands on her hips, scolding him as if he was a small boy.

  Frowning, Elijah got to his feet, so she was no longer able to look down at him—rather the other way around—but she did not take even a small step back. Her ferocious scowl might have been intimidating to some. The pain from his wounds had subsided, but they were still throbbing, making him a bit testier than he might have been.

  “I apologize, but you must remember I am used to being on my own, without a keeper.”

  “And you must remember you have a wife now,” she snapped, narrowing her eyes, anger flashing in them. Her chin tilted up. “And clearly, I have reason to worry.”

  “This has never happened before.” Hell, he was the careful one. Josie was the one always getting into scrapes. “I am fine, and I can prove it to you.”

  Reaching out, he caught her around the waist and pulled her flush against him, eliciting a gasp from her lips. Her robe and nightrail were gossamer thin between them, and she squished very nicely against his harder body, which hardened even more at the contact. His blood was already racing, heated from the dangers of this evening and Josie’s presence. Her eyes widening as her head tipped back to stare up at him, she smacked his chest, aghast.

  “I do not want to do… that! I am angry with you! And you are injured!”

  “Trust me, I am not injured enough to stop me from wanting to do this.” Leaning down, he caught her lips. He thought she would pull away, but after a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely with all the pent-up frustration and anger she had accumulated.

  Chapter 23

  Josie

  Men! And Elijah was the most infuriating of them to boot. The nitwit.

  Unfortunately, she had become attached to him and had to admit there was something to be said for transmuting her anger into passion. It was hard to hold on to her temper when she was so relieved he was all right. Footpads! He was lucky he had not been injured worse.

  The thought gave an extra intensity to her kiss. She clutched him, trying to find the balance between how badly she wanted to feel every inch of his body pressed against hers and the knowledge he was injured. Though, as he had said, he seemed perfectly fine now. If he was in any pain or discomfort, he was doing a good job hiding it.

  When he tried to pick her up, her legs squeezed his sides, and he winced, then stumbled. Thankfully, they were close enough to the bed, they fell upon it, and he let out a low groan.

  “Perfectly fine, indeed.” Josie snorted.

  “I am mostly fine,” he conceded. “But maybe you should do the bulk of the work.”

  Curious, Josie rolled to her side as Elijah took off his boots and pants, enjoying watching him disrobe. He really was a fine figure of a man, even more perfectly built than the Greek statues at the museum and far more attractive in face and form.

  He carefully laid back against the pillows and crooked his finger, a small smile curving his lips. Josie crawled up the bed, allowing him to direct her, so she straddled his hips as if he was a horse. Except he was not a horse, and his very large, very erect manhood was rubbing between her thighs. Squirming, she tugged at the silky material of her gown, pulling it from between them.

  “We should take this off,” he murmured.

  Pushing the robe off her shoulders, she tugged the nightrail over her head, leaving her completely naked atop him. Josie’s cheeks pinked as he ran his gaze over her appreciatively. Her nipples puckered with interest, and her womanhood dampened as the length of his cock nestled between her lips.

  Cupping her breasts, Elijah fondled them, making her squirm. He pinched her nipples, and she gasped at the little spurt of pain, arching her back and thrusting her breasts into his hands. Her insides clenched emptily as hot need slid through her, rising higher as he caressed her.

  “Now, what do I do?” she asked hesitantly. He seemed content to play with her breasts while she remained perched atop him, but she thought she should be doing something.

  Elijah

  She really was an anxious little thing. Amused but aroused, Elijah cupped her breasts and squeezed. He loved the way she wriggled atop him, stimulating both while satisfying neither of them. The tease was its own satisfaction and highly erotic.

  “You let me enjoy myself.” He gave her nipples another pinch and a twist, then took mercy on her—not by loosening his grip but by giving her further direction. “Put your hands behind your head and link your fingers together.”

  Her breath hitched when she realized how the position pushed her breasts out, giving him further access.

  Elijah grinned, enjoying every moment of her sensual torment. Truthfully, it gave him time to catch his breath. Despite his boasting, when he’d tried to lift her, and her legs had pressed into his side against his injury, it had been pure agony. It still throbbed, though the growing need for his passion was beginning to diminish the pain by comparison. Playing with her breasts was arousing both of them.

  “Elijah…” She breathed out his name as he pinched her nipples harder, head tipping back, squirming even harder against his cock, coating his length with her slick arousal. The tease of being between her lips but not inside her body was its own sweet agony and far preferable to the actual pain from his injuries.

  “Take the pain for me, minx.” He pinched harder, making her whimper, and her eyes fluttered shut. His cock pulsed against her wet folds, aching to be buried inside. He needed the validation he was here, alive, hale and hearty when at one point tonight he really had thought he was done for. “I want to see you writhing on my cock.”

  Another whimper, more squirming, then she panted for breath when he released the tender buds, and they plumped up again, redder and more swollen.

  Sliding his hands down to her hips, he gripped and lifted her.

  “Up, Josie. You are going to mount me.”

  Blue eyes flew open, meeting his, filled with shock and curiosity. Elijah shifted his hips until the sensitive head of his cock was at her entrance, then he relaxed his hands, letting her find her seat atop him. Her pink lips dropped open in perfect ‘o’ as she sank onto him. In this position, Elijah was able to watch every minute change of expression as she impaled herself on his raging erection.

  Josie

  Oh, glory…

  The sensation of sliding down onto Elijah was even more acute than the times he had been on top of or behind her. It was both exhilarating and embarrassing. She could feel his eyes on her, and there was no hiding any part of her body from him. Her breasts bounced slightly as she panted, her inner muscles clenching and gripping his thick shaft as she took it within her.

  Hands splayed across his muscled chest helped to balance her physically but did nothing to help her emotionally or mentally. She was careful to avoid his wounds, but she still worried about hurting him. Despite his confidence, this was the best arrangement.

  And saying she was going to mount him…

  She did not know if she would ever be able to ride astride again without blushing furiously and remembering this moment. He was certainly not as wide as a horse, but the movements were similar as his hands lifted her
up and fell down again as she rocked against him.

  It only took a few moments before Josie moved without his assistance, her passion driving her forward. Every time they had coupled before, Elijah had been in charge of their pace, their rhythm, and while she found that wonderfully exciting, there was also something to be said for moving the way she wanted to. Moaning, Josie shuddered as she glanced down to see him avidly watching her with the most lustful expression.

  That aroused her even further, her skin warming as she felt his heated gaze over her body and the way his hands traveled up from her hips to her breasts. Josie sighed with pleasure as he fondled her, her body moving atop his at a steady pace, akin to a canter.

  “Good girl.” Elijah’s voice was low and husky. His fingers pinched and firmly tugged her nipples, helping her to move in the direction he wanted. Josie hissed under her breath at the sting of pain that throbbed through her, straight to her core. Her nipples were already sensitive from all the pinching and twisting and responded even stronger now that he had returned to tormenting them. “Ride me, minx.”

  The command made her blush. This was not like riding a horse, but her long hours of doing so certainly helped her now. She rose and fell above him with only the slightest protest from her muscles.

  Other than his hands on her breasts, he let her take the lead, her ardor driving her to move faster and faster atop him, her body grinding down, so all her sensitive bits rubbed against his as her pleasure climbed higher and higher.

  “Faster.” His hand released her breast, swatting her bottom, and the sting added to the delicious sensations coursing through her. Josie moved harder, faster as he spanked her flanks, peppering her flesh with little swats that made her even more excited.

  When she reached her peak, crying out as she writhed atop him in ecstasy, he took control.

  He heaved underneath her, hands falling to her hips to hold her in place as he thrust up inside her, sending a paroxysm of pleasure through her already exultant senses. Josie spasmed at the surge of sensation, her head falling back as Elijah moved her, his body heaving beneath hers, thrusting up and in, filling her oh-so-wonderfully.