by Lisa Kleypas
"At first I found it amusing. The irony of masquerading as myself. But after the first day, it became a weight on my shoulders. The mere mention of the name annoys the hell out of me."
Lottie wondered why he was so antagonized by the name he had been born with. There had to be some reason other than the ones he had given so far.
"Nick, what did Sir Ross mean when he said that you were financially equipped to manage the title?"
His mouth twisted. "He meant that I could afford the cost of maintaining a large estate and the kind of lifestyle required of a peer."
"How could he know such a thing?"
"He doesn't know for certain."
"He is wrong, of course."
"No," Nick muttered, "he's not wrong. Before I came to Bow Street, I made a few investments, and I have some holdings here and there. All in all, I have about two hundred put away."
Silently Lottie reflected that two hundred pounds in savings was not bad, but it did not offer the kind of security one could have wished for. She only hoped that his investments would not depreciate in value. "Well, that seems quite satisfactory," she said, not wishing to hurt his feelings. "I think we shall do fairly well if we economize. But I do not think the circumstances allow for a wedding trousseau. Not at this time. Perhaps in the future-"
"Lottie," he interrupted, "we don't need to economize."
"Two hundred pounds is a fine sum, but it will be difficult to maintain a household with-"
"Lottie." He glanced at her with an odd expression. "I was referring to thousands. Two hundred thousand pounds."
"But...but..." Lottie was astonished. It was an immense sum, a fortune by anyone's standards.
"And about five thousand a year from investments and private commissions," he added, stunning her further. His face darkened. "Although it seems my days of private commissions are over."
"Why, you must be as rich as Lord Radnor," she said dazedly.
He made a choppy gesture with his hand, as if consideration of money was completely irrelevant, compared to his far greater problem. "Probably."
"You could afford a dozen houses. You could have anything you-"
"I don't need a dozen houses. I can only sleep under one roof at a time. I can only eat three meals a day. And I don't give a damn about impressing anyone."
Lottie was surprised by the realization that he was not motivated to acquire wealth. His fortune had come as a consequence of his need to outwit everyone from the underworld to Bow Street. And now that the profession of law enforcement had been taken from him, he would be in urgent need of something to do. He was a tremendously active man, not at all suited for the cultivated indolence of aristocratic life. How in heaven's name was he going to adjust to living as a peer?
His thoughts must have mirrored hers, for he gave a groan of hopeless anger and raked his hand roughly through his hair. A stray lock fell on his forehead, and Lottie was startled by her sudden urge to play with the thick chocolate-colored strands, smooth them back, slide her fingers into the warm silk.
"Lottie," he said gruffly, "I'm going out for a while. I probably won't be back until morning. You have a reprieve for tonight."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know yet." He stepped back from her with a restlessness that contained an edge of panic, as if a heavy net had dropped over him.
Lottie knew that she should not care if he went out and drank, or struck up a fight with someone, or did any of the numerous foolish things that men in search of amusement did. She should not want to soothe his barely contained fury. But she did.
Without allowing herself time to consider her actions, Lottie approached him, touching the fine broadcloth of his coat with her palm. Her hand smoothed over the fabric and eased inside. His waistcoat was the same inky black as his coat, but the material was silkier, slipping a little over the hard delineation of his chest muscles. She thought of how hot his skin must be, to impart such warmth to the thick garment.
Nick was suddenly motionless, his breath changing to a slower, deeper rhythm. Lottie did not look at his face but concentrated instead on the knot of his gray necktie as her fingers explored the snowy, fragrant folds of his shirt.
"I don't want a reprieve," she said eventually and tugged at the knot until it slid loose.
As the necktie unraveled, it seemed that his self-control became similarly undone. He breathed more heavily, and his hands clenched at his sides. Inexpertly she unfastened the stiff collar of his shirt and spread it wide to reveal the amber sheen of his throat. She glanced up at his face and saw with a quake of sudden nervousness that his fury was transforming rapidly into pure sexual need. Color crept across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, a burnished glow that made his eyes look like blue fire.
His head lowered very slowly, as if he were giving her every opportunity to flee. She stayed where she was, her eyes closing as she felt the barely perceptible touch of his mouth on the side of her neck. His lips brushed the sensitive skin, parted, and the silken tip of his tongue stroked her in a delicate, hot circle. With a shaky sigh, Lottie leaned forward into his body as her legs wobbled beneath her. He did not touch her with his hands, only continued to explore her neck with exquisite leisure. She held onto him, her arms locking around his lean waist.
His hands came to her shoulders, gripping softly. He seemed undecided as to whether he wanted to pull her closer or push her away. His voice was hoarse as he asked, "What are you doing, Lottie?"
Her heart was hammering so wildly that she could barely summon the breath to speak. "I suppose I am encouraging you to finish what you started in Lord Westcliff's library."
"Be certain," he said roughly. "I haven't had a woman in six months. If you suddenly decide to stop, I'm not going to take it well."
"I won't tell you to stop."
He stared at her, his gaze fever-bright, his face hard. "Why now, when you didn't want to last night?"
That was beyond her ability to explain. After the events of this afternoon, he suddenly seemed vulnerable to her. She was beginning to see the ways in which he needed her, needs that went beyond sexual desire. And the challenge of taming him, matching his powerful will with her own, was too tempting to resist.
"We're married now," she said, seizing on the first excuse she could think of. "And I would prefer to...to have done with this, so that I won't have to dread it."
She saw the predatory flicker in his eyes. He wanted her. He did not waste time asking questions, only extended his hand. "Come upstairs, then."
Carefully Lottie placed her hand in his. "Nick, there is just one thing..."
"What?"
"It's not dark yet."
"And?"
"Is it appropriate to do this in the afternoon?"
The question pulled an unsteady laugh from him. "I don't know. And I damn well don't care." Keeping her hand in his, he guided her from the library to the entrance hall, and up the grand staircase.
CHAPTER 9
Lottie went upstairs with him, her hand caught fast in his, her legs feeling like rubber when they finally reached his bedroom. The curtains were parted, admitting soft gray light through the windows. She would have much preferred darkness. The thought of being naked in the unforgiving daylight caused her to shake all over.
"Easy," Nick murmured, standing behind her. His hands closed gently around her upper arms. His voice was lower, thicker than usual. "I'll be careful. I can make it pleasant for you, if..."
"If?"
"If you'll trust me."
They were both still and silent. Lottie moistened her lips, reflecting that she hadn't trusted anyone in years. And to put her faith in Nick Gentry...the most unscrupulous man she had ever met...it was not folly, it was insanity. "Yes," she said, surprising herself. "Yes, I will trust you."
He made a soft sound, as if the words had caught him off guard.
Gradually his hand slid across the upper part of her chest, exerting a gentle pressure that caused her to lean
back against him. She felt his mouth on the back of her neck, his lips playing through the tender wisps at her nape. He tasted the downy skin, then pressed the edge of his teeth in a sensitive spot that made her squirm against him in pleasure. Working his way to the side of her neck, he nibbled his way to the tip of her earlobe, while his hands moved over the front of her gown. The bodice parted, the sides listing to reveal the framework of the light corset beneath. His fingertips drifted to her throat, caressed the vulnerable curve, then traveled to the wing of her collarbone.
"You're beautiful, Lottie," he whispered. "The way you feel and taste...your skin, your hair..." He took the pins from her hair, sent them skittering to the carpet, and sank his fingers into the pale silken locks that fell over her shoulder. Bringing her hair to his face, he rubbed it against his cheek and chin. Heat played in her body, rising, intensifying, and she leaned back against the solid form behind her.
He eased her gown to her waist, helping her to extract her arms from the sleeves, his fingertips running lightly from her elbows to her underarms. Turning her to face him, Nick deftly unhooked the corset, releasing her from the wrapping of stays and laces. Her breasts, which had been propped artificially high in the boned supports, were left unconfined, the tips hardening against the thin crushed muslin of her chemise. His hand lifted, and he touched her through the sheer fabric. Sliding his fingers beneath the fullness of her breast, he drew his thumb over the shape of her nipple. His touch was very light, lingering at the tip until it burned.
Gasping, Lottie grasped his shoulders for balance. He slid a solid arm behind her back as he continued to toy gently with her body, taking the peak in his fingers, stroking softly. An ache of pleasure formed deep in her stomach as he cupped her breast in his hand, containing the roundness in his palm. Suddenly she wanted him to touch her other breast. She wanted his mouth on her, everywhere, and to slide her own lips across the heat of his skin, and to feel his unclothed body against hers. Frustrated and eager, she tugged at his coat, until his choppy laugh ruffled through her hair.
"Slowly," he whispered. "There's no need to hurry." He removed his coat...waistcoat...stockings and shoes...trousers...shirt...and finally the linens that had obscured the startling sight of his erection.
Suddenly Lottie didn't know where to look. He should have appeared vulnerable in his nakedness, but he seemed more powerful now than when he'd had his clothes on. His body was hewn with brutal grace, large and muscular and superbly fit. His bronze tan ended at his waistline, fading into the paler skin of his hips. A wealth of thick dark hair covered his chest, and there was another heavy patch of it at his groin, around the dark, upthrust length of his erection.
Nick's fingertip traced the side of her scarlet cheek. "Do you know what is going to happen?"
Lottie nodded jerkily. "Yes, I think so."
He stroked the underside of her chin, his fingertip leaving a trail of fire. "Who told you about it? Your mother?"
"Oh, no. She was going to explain everything to me the night before my wedding to Lord Radnor. But of course that never transpired." Lottie closed her eyes as he caressed the side of her neck, his hand warm and a bit raspy from callouses. "I heard gossip at school, though. A few of the girls had...done things...and they told the rest of us about it."
"Done what things?"
"Met in private with gentlemen friends, or cousins, and allowed them liberties." Lottie opened her eyes and met his smiling gaze, refusing to look below the level of his collarbone.
"How far did the liberties go? As far as we went the other night?"
"Yes," she forced herself to admit.
"Did you enjoy the way I touched you?" he asked softly.
Color blazed in her face, and she managed a jerking nod.
"You'll enjoy the rest of it, too," he promised, reaching for the hem of her chemise.
Obeying his wordless urging, she lifted her arms and let him strip away the garment. She kicked off her slippers and stood before him in her long drawers and stockings, with her arms crossed over her bare breasts.
He stood over her, his hand trailing over her back, raising gooseflesh on every inch of her skin. "Put your arms around me, Lottie."
She obeyed awkwardly, bringing her body fully against his. Her nipples sank into the coarse mat of curls on his chest. His body was incredibly hot, his erection burning through the muslin drawers. It prodded against her stomach, until he slid his hand beneath her buttocks and hitched her upward. His hand slid between her buttocks to hold her compactly against him, and she felt him press against her sex. A shock of sensation went through her, followed by a surge of lust so acute that she could hardly bear it. Gripping his neck, she pushed her face against the dense muscle of his shoulder. His fingers slid farther between her thighs. The linen beneath his fingers became damp as he stroked the soft furrow in a lazy rhythm. For a long, blissful minute he held her like that, warming her with his own body until she began to strain against the ridge of his erection.
Reaching between their bodies, he pulled at the tapes of her drawers. He let the garment drop to the floor and picked her up, carrying her to the bed with astonishing ease. As Lottie reclined on the embroidered counterpane, Nick's gaze slid over her. A smile tugged at his lips. "I've never seen anyone blush from head to toe before."
"Well, I've never been naked in front of a man," Lottie said, abashed. It was inconceivable that she should be conversing with someone while she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, except for her stockings.
His hand closed gently around her ankle. "You're adorable," he whispered, and climbed over her.
He tugged at one of her garters with his teeth, loosening the ribbon that fastened it. She gasped as he kissed the red marks left by the tie, and soothed them with his tongue. Unrolling the stockings from her legs, he pushed her thighs wide apart. Increasingly uncomfortable, Lottie used her hand to conceal herself from his view. His head moved over her, his hot breath fanning her skin. His thumbs swept over the pulse in the fragile crease between her thigh and groin.
"Don't cover yourself," he coaxed.
"I can't help it," she said, wriggling to evade the tiny flicks of his tongue, which ventured in places she had never imagined a man would want to put his mouth. Somehow she managed to dislodge the bedclothes enough to dive beneath them in search of sanctuary. She shivered at the cool slickness of the linens against her naked body.
Following with a low laugh, Nick slid beneath the bedclothes, until they tented over the broad outline of his shoulders. His head disappeared, and she felt his hands on her knees, pushing them apart once more.
Lottie stared blindly at the dark canopy overhead. "Nick," she asked raggedly, "is this the usual way that people h-have relations?"
His voice was muffled. "What is the usual way?"
She inhaled sharply as he nipped at the inner curve of her thigh. "I'm not entirely certain. But I don't think this is it."
His voice thickened with amusement. "I know what I'm doing, Lottie."
"I was not implying that you didn't...oh, please don't kiss me there!"
Then she felt him shake with suppressed laughter. "For someone who has never done this before, you're rather opinionated. Let me make love to you the way I want, hmmn? The first time, at least." He grasped both her wrists and pinned them at her sides. "Lie still."
"Nick..." She started as his mouth descended to the nest of blond curls. "Nick..."
But he did not listen, completely absorbed in her salt-scented female flesh. His breath filled the moist cleft with steamy heat. A moan rose in her throat, and her wrists twisted in his grasp. His tongue searched through the springy curls until he reached the rosy lips hidden beneath. He licked one side of her sex, then the other, the tip of his tongue teasing delicately.
His mouth ravished her so gently, his tongue slipping over her melting flesh to find the secret entrance to her body, filling her with silky heat...withdrawing...filling. Lottie went weak all over, her sex pulsing urgently. As he nuz
zled and played with her, she tried to angle her body so that he would touch the peak that throbbed so desperately. He seemed not to understand what she wanted, licking all around the sensitive spot but never quite reaching it.
"Nick," she whispered, unable to find words for what she wanted. "Please. Please."
But he continued to deny her, until she realized that he was doing it deliberately. Frustrated beyond bearing, she reached down to his head, and she felt the puff of his brief laugh against her. Immediately his mouth slid away and traveled downward, tasting the damp creases of her knees, moving to the hollows of her ankles. By the time he made his way back to her loins, her entire body was sweltering. His head hovered over the place between her legs again. Lottie held her breath, aware of a hot trickle of moisture from her body.
His tongue brushed the peak of her sex in a tentative lap. Lottie could not hold back a wild cry as she arched into his mouth.
"No," he murmured against her damp flesh. "Not yet, Lottie. Wait just a little longer."
"I can't, can't, oh, don't stop..." She pulled at his dark head frantically, groaning as he feathered his tongue over her once more.
Catching her wrists, Nick pulled them over her head and settled his body between her thighs, taking care not to crush her. His shaft was cradled in the hot valley between her legs. His dark blue eyes stared directly into hers as he released her hands. "Leave them there," he said, and she obeyed with a sob.
He kissed her breasts, moving from one to the other. With each incendiary swirl of his tongue, she nearly rose off the sheet. His sex slid against her in disciplined thrusts that teased and rubbed and tormented, while his mouth drew hungrily on her nipples. She arched upward with supplicating moans. Stunning pleasure built inside her, gaining intensity...she hovered on the brink, waiting, waiting...oh, please...until the culmination was finally upon her. She cried out in bashful amazement as rich spasms spread from the center of her body.
"Yes," he whispered against her taut throat, his hips working gently over hers. The sensation eased into long shivers as he smoothed her hair back from her damp forehead.