She turned back and their eyes met. Colin held up his hands.
“I would not dare invade upon your privacy, Charlotte. I will not stay.”
She moved forward, against her will. “Nonsense. I would not send an enemy out into this storm, let alone an old friend. You will stay here until this weather breaks. Until it is safe for you to retake the road.”
Colin was still for a moment and Charlotte saw the flicker of humor that was his constant quality fade away. For just a brief flash, he seemed almost…predatory. But then it was gone and the corner of his mouth lifted into his old grin.
“Thank you, Charlotte. I appreciate that.”
She smiled awkwardly and was infinitely grateful when the door behind him opened and Horace returned with a tray brimming with food and tea. Charlotte motioned to the sideboard and thanked the old butler before he left them alone again.
She turned away from Colin and began to pour the tea. Without even asking, she knew that he took three lumps of sugar, no cream.
Suddenly he was at her shoulder.
“Is old Horace studying to be a parlor maid now?” he said with a laugh as he looked at the brimming pile of biscuits.
Charlotte smiled. Mrs. Horace had always adored Colin. Probably because he adored her cooking so much.
“No. My return was not entirely expected. Rosemont Terrace has a short staff at present,” she explained. “But that is for the best. I came here to think. A quiet house is the best for that.”
She expected Colin to move, but instead he remained at her elbow. When she turned, she practically crashed into his very broad chest. The tantalizing, clean scent of his skin wrapped itself around her and she found herself looking up into his eyes as she held out his cup of tea.
For a moment, he didn’t take the offering, merely looked down at her with a strangely focused intent in his eyes. Again, Charlotte flashed to the one other time she had been so close to him. They had been in a similar position to this that long ago night, but Colin had had a very different expression on his face.
Today there was a heat in his eyes.
But no, she was imagining that.
“Here,” she said, her voice cracking as he finally took the cup from her suddenly shaking hands.
He took a sip and smiled. “You remembered.”
“Only you would drink your tea so sweet,” she said, trying to laugh off the awareness she felt as she turned back to pour her own cup. It was stupid. Foolish. And she was no longer a girl.
“I have always liked sweet things,” he said quietly. Then she felt the whisper of a touch against her neck. Her eyes widened and she spun back toward him, but he had already grabbed two biscuits and was moving away to sit by the fire.
Reflexively, Charlotte moved up to cover the place where she had felt his touch. But she had to have been wrong. Colin hadn’t touched her. Now that he had settled into her brother’s favorite chair and was wolfing down one of the chocolate biscuits that had always been his favorites, he didn’t even seem to recall she was there anymore.
“So,” he said with a sigh of pleasure as he swallowed the last bit of his cookie. “What is there to think about?”
Charlotte blinked as she stirred cream into her tea before she joined him. “Think?”
“You said you came here to think. Since I have abominably interrupted your respite, perhaps I can help.” He winked. “You and I always came up with the best plans together.”
Charlotte dipped her chin with an unbidden smile. As children they had often taken the same side in war games against her brother. Diabolical, the pair of them, they had won almost every time.
But that was very long ago.
“I-I don’t need a plan, I’m afraid.”
“Then what is it?” he pressed, starting on his second biscuit with gusto.
She shifted uncomfortably before she scolded herself. Why in the world was she hesitating in telling him the truth about why she had come here? He had no reason in the world to care about her plans. He would probably be like her brother and just wave her off with disinterest once he heard the truth.
“I, er, I have been offered a proposal of marriage.”
He stopped eating and slowly his dark blue gaze slid up to her face. His expression was strangely blank and unreadable, with no emotional reaction to her announcement whatsoever.
“From whom?” he asked, his tone as even and unaffected as his face.
She swallowed, still having the uncomfortable feeling that she was somehow betraying Colin. “I-er-Lawrence Darnell. He is the Viscount Darnell’s youngest brother.”
“I have met him.” Colin winced. “He may be the Viscount’s youngest brother, but he is not young. He must be twenty years your senior, Charlotte.”
She straightened up, defensive at his obvious shock. “His age does not bother me. He has been nothing but kind to me in the few months he has been courting me.”
“Nothing but kind?” Colin repeated and his voice was quiet. “What a waste.”
“What?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
He shook his head and ignored her question. “So you have come here to consider his offer.”
She nodded, confused by his murmured comment and put off by his refusal to explain it. “I told him I would give him an answer by Saint Valentine’s Day, a week from today.”
Colin set his teacup down on the table between them. “How utterly romantic of you, Lady Kendrick.”
Now it was Charlotte who winced. The formality of her married title coming from Colin’s lips was like a slap. But his expression wasn’t cold as he stared at her. No, it was still heated, and this time she was certain she wasn’t imagining things. He was staring at her like…like…
Well, rather as if she was one of those biscuits that he couldn’t get enough of.
And despite all her knowledge that it was foolish, the idea that Colin might feel anything more than friendly concern for her warmed her to her very toes and made her long for things she had long ago convinced herself were out of reach.
Things were going exactly as planned. He was here, he had managed to get an invitation from Charlotte to stay through the duration of the storm. And now she was staring at him with that same combination of sweet innocence and sultry sensuality that had been tying him in knots for years.
Colin settled back. The only problem was Charlotte’s impending engagement. Although he didn’t tell her so, the news wasn’t a surprise to him. He had known all about Darnell’s offer before he left London to come here. Her brother had revealed it. But the idea that she was intent on answering the other man’s proposal in just a week put even more pressure on Colin than ever.
He only had a few days. He would have to use every single damn moment to perfection.
He stared at Charlotte as she sipped her tea and shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. Great God, but she was a beauty. Her rich hair was the color of chocolate, thick and gorgeous as little tendrils of it curled around her apple cheeks and slender neck. And her eyes, that striking, ever-changing hazel brown that sometimes looked like spun gold and sometimes like nutty depths…they had always been where she carried her emotions.
Today they looked confused. And excited.
Yes, Charlotte was still aware of him. Still attracted to him. Still moved by him.
Even though he had once thrown all that away. Now he had one chance to get it back. A last chance, for if she married Darnell, she would never be his.
And Colin knew only one thing, he wanted Charlotte Rosemont Kendrick. He wanted her in his bed, he wanted her in his life, he wanted her in his heart forever.
And he would do anything to make sure it happened.
Chapter 2
“There can’t be much passion there.”
Charlotte choked on her swallow of tea and stared at Colin. He had leaned back in his seat and was staring at her again. She shivered. This time there was no denying that he was appraising her. But not like she saw him look at every woman. This l
ook was different. Sexual, yes, but also something else. Something…deeper.
She was utterly confused.
“What are you talking about?” she managed to say after she regained her breath.
“In a marriage between you and that old man,” Colin explained. His eyebrow arched. “I can’t imagine it will be a great passion.”
Charlotte shoved to her feet, tea sloshing from her cup to sting her hand. With a frown, she set her drink aside and paced away from Colin.
“This is an entirely inappropriate conversation, Colin.”
He chuckled. “Is it? In the proper parlors of London with ladies watching, yes. But we are here in your family home, the door closed, and we are, as you put it earlier, old friends. How can it be inappropriate for me to inquire after your welfare?”
She spun around to face him and found he had gotten to his feet and moved toward her. Instinctively, Charlotte backed up.
“Because you aren’t inquiring after my welfare,” she said as he came closer and closer. “You are asking after my…my…”
“Sex life.” He smiled as he came to a stop about a pace’s length away from her. “Or lack thereof.”
Heat flooded Charlotte’s cheeks. As devilish as Colin’s reputation was, he had never been so forward with her. Now he reached out and caught a loose tendril of her hair. She watched, eyes wide as he wound it around his finger, tighter and tighter, until she felt the gentle tug against her scalp. That little touch forced her to move forward and suddenly they were chest to chest. She craned her neck to look up at him and hated herself for the way her body reacted. Her nipples grew hard and sensitive beneath her silky gown. Her thighs clenched around empty heat and wetness.
“Colin,” she whispered, the sound a plea, though she wasn’t certain for what.
“It seems a waste for you to marry a man who would be nothing but kind to you, Charlotte.” He let her lock of hair spiral away from his finger and slipped the digit beneath her chin, stroking just his fingertip in a silky line there.
“You would prefer me to marry someone cruel, then?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light when she was dizzy and hot beneath his unexpected touch.
He shook his head. “Of course not. But a woman such as you should be worshiped and devoured and seduced. She should be made to beg for more, offered a chance to take more. She should be pleasured and teased. But none of it should be done kindly. It should be done passionately. Slowly. Reverently, even.”
His mouth came down with every word and Charlotte found her eyes fluttering shut even though she knew she should run away from him, from his words, from his kiss that would mean nothing the moment it was finished.
“Don’t you want passion, Charlotte? At least one last time?” he asked softly before his lips claimed hers.
And it was a claiming. Despite the fact that it was their first kiss, there was nothing gentle or questing or questioning about it. If she had been a virgin, it would have been the kind of kiss that made her swoon.
But she wasn’t. So instead she clung to his shoulders and surrendered herself as his mouth opened over hers. His tongue invaded and claimed. His arms came around her, lifting her up, molding her close. To her utter horror, she arched her hips, rubbing against his very obvious erection as she let out one deep, soulful moan of pleasure.
She shook her head, trying to clear her mind, as she staggered back from him and his confusing touch. He released her immediately, watching her through a hooded gaze as she moved farther and farther from him.
“What are you doing?” she asked, covering her burning lips. “Why are you doing this?”
“You were once married to a man of a certain reputation,” Colin said softly, his dark eyes never leaving her face. “Undoubtedly you know exactly what I’m doing. I am trying to seduce you.”
Charlotte turned away from him as even more blood heated her already flushed skin. Damn him. Damn him for bringing up her marriage that he knew nothing about. For reminding her of exactly why she couldn’t involve herself in an affair with a man like him. Even though he was so tempting.
“You don’t want me,” she murmured, proud she could keep her voice from cracking.
“You are wrong.”
She shook her head. “You want a woman, perhaps. But any woman will do. It has nothing to do with me.”
He laughed and she looked over her shoulder. He didn’t actually look amused, despite his smile. “Darling, if I wanted any woman, there is a chamber maid who passed me in your hall not twenty minutes ago who would have sufficed.”
Charlotte’s eyes went wide, and she turned her face away with a huffing sound that gave away far too many emotions. He chuckled again, but this time he was right behind her again. Before she could move to face him, his arms came around her, drawing her back against his broad chest even as he moved her forward toward the door, inch by inch.
“When you came to me all those years ago, when you offered yourself to me I turned you down for—” He stopped and Charlotte felt the catch of his breath against her bare neck. She shivered before he continued. “Well, there were many reasons. But I spent the next seven years wondering what would have happened if I had said yes. Haven’t you ever wondered?”
Charlotte trembled. Of course she had wondered.
“No,” she lied.
“Very well, then, indulge me despite your supposed lack of interest in what might have been. You and I are trapped here, perhaps for many days, all alone. We can play whist and pretend we don’t feel the desire that courses through us when we are near each other. Or we can have a very passionate affair and purge that desire from our systems.”
Slowly, he turned her, pressing her back to the parlor door as he reached around her to lock it. She could hardly breathe now, her dress felt too tight, her skin felt too tight as he leaned against her, his body making very clear what he wanted. And what he would give her in return.
“But—”
“You think too much, sweet,” he whispered, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “There don’t have to be consequences or regrets; just all that passion that you are so willing to give up by considering Darnell’s proposal of marriage.”
Charlotte closed her eyes as Colin pressed his lips to her throat. With his mouth on her skin, it was so hard to think. But she had to. For Colin there would be no consequences to an affair. He felt nothing for any of the numerous women he had bedded.
For her, it would be different. She had loved this man for most of her life. Truth be told, that love had never fully died, she had just found a way to ignore it, bury it, forget it. But if she let him make love to her, it would be so easy to feel the emotion again. And the pain when he was finished with her.
His lips slipped lower, as did his hands. He pressed his palms to her breasts, gently lifting them so that the swells were more pronounced over the scooped neck of her silky gown. He pressed his mouth to the valley there, gently licking, languidly lighting her on fire.
She pressed her head to the wooden surface behind her and let out a strangled moan of pleasure and frustration. It was a huge risk to take the sudden offer Colin was making to her. And yet, perhaps without even knowing it, he had given her a good reason to surrender.
Perhaps, if she did give in, gave herself to him, she could purge those feelings she had for him. And at the very worst, she would have memories, not just fantasies to take into her life after the storm. Whatever she decided about Lawrence’s proposal, there was something to be said about living, not just wishing to live.
“Say something, Charlotte,” Colin whispered, even as his hot hands glided ever lower, bunching her gown up into his fist as he cupped her hip and then skimmed her thigh. “Say yes.”
“Yes,” she whispered as her hips arched against his hands. “Yes.”
He didn’t ask again. Immediately, he dropped to his knees before her, shoving her skirt up as he let his mouth move to where his hands had been. Charlotte yelped out surprise as his warm breath breache
d her stockings, steaming against the skin of her inner thigh.
Her husband had done this a few times in the years they had been married. She had enjoyed it, but the teasing pleasures of this act had ended years before his untimely death. Still, though she had experienced a man’s mouth against her before, Charlotte wasn’t fully ready when it was Colin’s mouth that settled against the juncture of her thighs. When it was his tongue that burrowed up to tease the wet lips of her slit. When it was his fingers that parted her wet folds, revealing her most private areas to his burning gaze, hot fingers, and questing tongue.
“Oh yes,” he murmured against her flesh. “I have always loved sweet things.”
Charlotte moaned, her head thrashing against the door behind her as he began to lick her in earnest. And he savored every lick, just like she was a sweet treat he wanted to relish. His fingers stroked in time with his hot, wicked tongue. First he teased her swollen folds, then he wetted his thick thumb with her flowing juices and stroked her flesh aside until he found the hidden pearl of her clit.
Her legs began to shake as he drove his tongue inside of her with relentless, focused thrusts and swirled his wet thumb around and around the tender bundle of nerves hidden within her folds.
Charlotte’s back stiffened against the door. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth as intense, powerful pleasure rushed through her. Every part of her became completely focused on the places where he touched her. She felt every breath between her legs, every strum of her own heartbeat. Her entire life centered in that one pleasure point, and she couldn’t help but moan and cry out as he dragged her through one burst of pleasure to the next. Even when her knees buckled, even when her cries turned to pleading words of surrender, he still relentlessly licked and stroked on until her body was on fire and she feared being consumed.
Then and only then did he step between her shaking legs, straightening up to support her trembling backside as he unfastened his trousers and freed his cock. Charlotte did not protest as he fitted the hard, hot head of his erection to her trembling entrance. She simply held her breath and waited for the tremors of pleasure to move to their next level.
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