From Prim to Improper

by Cathy Williams

  ‘Ex-girlfriend. And, by the way, we had broken up before I started sleeping with you.’ His eyes roved lazily across her flushed face. Yielding on this one small matter was worth it to see the shell-pink blush that spread across her cheeks.

  ‘Why didn’t you say so at the time?’

  ‘I am not in the habit of explaining myself.’ He gave a theatrical shrug of his broad shoulders and shot her a smile that literally brought her out in beads of perspiration. ‘But in this instance I feel it’s justified, so that I clear the air between us. I wouldn’t want you labouring under the misconception that I’m the kind of guy who would ever sleep with more than one woman at the same time. For me, making love is not to be taken lightly.’ His voice dropped a notch to a husky, sexy drawl. ‘Nor, while I am being totally honest, would I want you to think that you were anything but bloody amazing. There are times when I close my eyes and I can still taste you on my tongue.’

  He sat back, leaving her with that thought, which affected him like a shot of adrenaline, and looked around at the marquee which was filling out nicely with people.

  ‘But never mind that. You probably don’t want to hear that, especially not now, when you should be enjoying yourself with all the guys James has invited here for your benefit.’ He still couldn’t bring himself to single Gilbert out by name but he was damn sure that the guy was not even on the fringes of her consciousness as she breathlessly watched him.

  Elizabeth, taking her cue from him, tried to clear her head of the devastating memory of them making love.

  ‘Are you enjoying yourself, by the way?’

  She nodded, and then when she had located her voice said evenly, ‘It’s a bit over the top, but it was a kind thought, and I think James is thrilled to have all his old friends around him.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever had a lavish do like this before?’ There was nothing snide in his observation and she allowed herself to relax a little. She found herself telling him about the parties she had had as a child growing up, and about how hard her mother had tried to compensate for the lack of a father. She knew she was babbling, because she was nervous and over-aware of him sitting there with his head inclined to one side, for all the world as though he really cared about what she was saying. But she was proud of herself that she could communicate like this, when her head was swimming and her body felt as though it was submerged in treacle. That said something, didn’t it?

  People were beginning to drift over towards them, plates in hands, while waiters scuttled around topping up glasses, making sure that wine was poured at the tables.

  In under a minute, their table would be full, and the tedious business of mingling would begin. It was a shame. Having swotted away the irritating business of potential suitors, having confronted the unexpected fact that he still fancied the hell out of her—never mind that she had rejected him, a little technicality that should have killed off all remnants of lust stone-dead—Andreas was enjoying the idea of showing her just how little Gilbert, or anyone else for that matter, meant to her. Of getting her back into bed. With him. Where she belonged. Until such time as his crazy desire fizzled out, which it inevitably would.

  No. Until such time as their crazy, mutual desire fizzled out. Because his antennae had honed in on her responses to him and relayed back to his brain that he certainly wasn’t the only one who thought that there was unfinished business between them.

  But there was no rush, was there? A feeling of warm contentment spread through him, blessed relief after the puzzling array of frustrated emotions that had been swirling through him like toxins over the past week. The uncertainty that had gripped him when he had seen her mingling with other guys was subsiding.

  He didn’t want to be in the grip of those weird, conflicting emotions and he therefore reduced the situation to its basic essentials: she still wanted him, he still wanted her. And, most importantly, they had been lovers. In that respect, he held the trump card. He noted that Toby was nowhere in evidence, and that gave him a further feeling of having landed on safe ground. He wondered whether she was already regretting her haste in turning down his magnanimous offer for her to accompany him to London. He hoped so. Was she silently making comparisons, drawing obvious conclusions? Was she realising that, when it came to giving herself, he was the only contender? It shocked him to realise how much he desired that outcome.

  In a life previously fuelled by the demands of work, women had been ready and willing at the click of a finger. He therefore had never had the need to indulge in anticipation. Since when had anticipation ever been necessary when the conclusions were all foregone?

  He was anticipating now, and the anticipation was sweet after that previous, sickening assault on his equilibrium at seeing her turn her attentions to someone else.

  He was even enjoying watching her as, meal over, she immediately left the table so that she could dutifully enjoy herself. She hadn’t been brought up in this sort of society—would have probably baulked at mixing with a bunch of mostly toffee-nosed people a few months ago—but she had grown in confidence since then. He remained where he was, sprawled in his chair at the table. Having demonstrated such an outstanding lack of enthusiasm for the various women who had optimistically sidled across to him to ‘renew their acquaintance’, he had eventually been left in peace. Lazily he looked on as Elizabeth chatted and mixed, and only glanced at her watch a couple of times when she thought no one was looking.

  In fact, he only snapped out of his watchful reverie when his godfather approached him, with Dot protectively hanging on to him, even though his opening words to Andreas were, ‘Woman can’t leave me alone! Thinks I need propping up just in case I collapse in the middle of my own damn party!’

  Andreas noticed with amusement that he didn’t seem intent on shrugging off the protective hold, despite his grumbling, and for a while he allowed himself to be distracted by his godfather. It was getting late. People were stopping by to relay their thanks, amidst much warm words about dropping by for visits. Most had brought drivers, some had ordered taxis, and none, thankfully, were staying over. Dot had suggested that it might not be a good idea, given the fact that James would be exhausted the following day and would not be able to face another round of entertaining.

  By a little after one, James was safely tucked up for the night, tired but still on high from the success of his impromptu gathering; the house was as good as empty. Only a handful of cleaning staff remained in the kitchen tidying away dishes or else scouring the house for stray glasses and crockery.

  Andreas could have relayed back Elizabeth’s movements down to the last second, due to a watchfulness that was extraordinary for him. He knew who she had spoken to and for how long. Had noted her body language when she had been with the Gilbert creep, and had been pleased that all those miniscule signals that indicated interest were stupendously absent, at least on her part. He also knew what time Gilbert had departed, and had observed with satisfaction that the goodbyes had been a general affair, not a cosy one-to-one business. He also knew that she was making herself useful, bringing in glasses that had been left outside; she would never be the kind of person who took it for granted that other people were there to wait on her hand and foot. That was one of those little things that he liked about her.

  He was waiting for her as she returned from her final trip to the kitchen with a trayful of champagne flutes, and as he blocked her path she could feel every nerve ending in her body ratchet up into screaming awareness.

  He looked as fresh as a daisy, despite the missing tie, the shirt sleeves carelessly cuffed, the tousled hair. She, on the other hand, felt like Cinderella several hours after the witching hour.

  ‘Join me for a drink?’ Andreas noted her discomfort and was amused by it.

  ‘You must be joking. It’s nearly one-thirty in the morning!’

  ‘I know. Shock
ing, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s been a long day,’ she mumbled inadequately.

  ‘And you’re glad it’s over.’

  ‘Very glad.’ Elaboration on this seemed to be required. ‘I’m not used to all of this.’ She gestured to the now-empty hall, and then self-consciously to her worse-for-wear dress.

  ‘Have you considered that this might just be the start of James’s quest to make sure that you’re happy and entertained? You’ll have to become accustomed to the Tobys and the Ruperts and the Alexanders…’ The bundling of random names neatly downplayed the significance of any one in particular.

  Elizabeth’s eyes glazed over. ‘I think they only came here out of curiosity,’ she blurted out, alarmed at the prospect of having more well-connected, eligible men wheeled out in front of her. James was well intentioned but misguided.

  ‘You have become something of a catch,’ Andreas remarked wryly. ‘Surely you’re not so naive that you don’t see that? The recession has barely skimmed the surface of James’s fortune. Like it or not, if you want to have freedom of choice, you’re going to have to spell it out in words of one syllable.’

  ‘I don’t need you to look out for me, thank you very much.’ She was desperate to be away from his suffocating presence, but the mesmeric pull of his eyes glued her to the spot until her pink tongue darted out lightly to moisten her dry lips.

  ‘Maybe I need to look out for my godfather’s fortune,’ Andreas answered distractedly. ‘No one can move faster at demolishing an inheritance than an out-of-work banker who suddenly finds himself down on his luck. I want to make sure that you don’t become a sucker for someone who knows how to spin a good tale.’

  ‘Oh—either I need to lock a man up to keep him interested, or else I’m too stupid to differentiate between the minnows and the sharks! Thanks very much!’ Insults, insults, insults—yet instead of fleeing her disobedient feet refused to budge.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ In actual fact, he knew that she was nobody’s pushover underneath that softly yielding exterior. But he was enjoying watching her face. He hadn’t thought it was possible for a woman to get under his skin to the extent that this one had, which just went to show that life could still hold surprises.

  ‘Anyway, there’s no need for you to be concerned. I’ve already told James that I don’t want anything from him. Not a penny. In fact, I’m going into town on Monday to have a look for a job. I’ve been chatting to a local guy, and he said that there are lots of vacant positions, especially if I’m not fussy about what I do. Even if I don’t move out immediately, I intend to do my fair share towards helping with the groceries and stuff like that.’

  ‘That’s incredibly noble, but I have a suspicion that James would hate that. Don’t forget, you’re the daughter he never knew he had. More than that, he loved you before he knew who you were. Course he’s going to want to spoil you.’

  Elizabeth hesitated, taken in by the seductive logic of what he was saying.

  ‘He’s also going to want to think that you’re happy here. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knows that for a young girl things can sometimes get a little…challenging around here. He will also be aware of the fact that you came here to suss him out, to get to know him; it was the reason you stayed. But, now that everything is out in the open, there just might be the fear that you’ll start wanting to return to the big city.’

  ‘And a parade of guys would keep me grounded?’

  ‘These are country folk, even if they might bide their time in the big city,’ Andreas pointed out. ‘Their lives are inextricably tied up with their parents’ estates, and their hearts and souls are never too far away from the country pile. Anyway.’ He glanced away in a thoughtful fashion. ‘It’s entirely up to you what you do. You did mention that guys like Toby might be fun, especially after us…’

  ‘I never said that I didn’t have fun with you.’ Elizabeth jumped in feverishly, then reddened at what she had blurted out.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Andreas allowed a heartbeat of silence to elapse. This strange little game of one step forward, two steps back was new to him, but he wasn’t going to help her along the path of realising just how much she still yearned for him. He would wait for her to come to him and then he would have her, and he didn’t think that she would be complaining.

  ‘Because that wasn’t the impression I got at the end.’ He dangled the memory of the great sex they had had and left her to contemplate what she had thrown away. When she stared down at the ground, he had to resist the tremendous urge to sweep her bright hair away from her face and assuage his hunger on her full, half-parted mouth. It was frustrating that every time he thought he was in control of the situation, guiding it to the place where he wanted it to be—the place where it was destined to be—he seemed to lose his foothold. Tonight had heralded an onslaught of destabilising emotions and at the forefront of them was the certainty that he wanted her back. For good? No, surely not! He wasn’t a ‘for good’ kind of guy…

  ‘I just didn’t want to move back to London.’

  ‘Understood.’ Andreas frowned. In the great scheme of things, dwelling on this particular sore point was not to his liking.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ His voice was dry and rueful. ‘Which isn’t to say that you didn’t do lasting damage to my ego…’ He gave a low, sexy laugh and leaned against the banister. He folded his arms and slanted that slow smile of his that could make any rational woman go weak at the knees. She had a blinding memory of how incredible it had been working alongside him, and then when they had become lovers enjoying a passion of which she had never considered herself capable. Like an ice sculpture subjected to the scorching intensity of white-heat, every pore in her being had melted at his touch.

  Assailed by the power of memory and the reality of the man standing in front of her, Elizabeth was momentarily disabled, and she gripped the doorframe so fiercely that her knuckles turned white.

  ‘I wouldn’t overestimate my worth,’ she said, making light of his remark, wondering whether there was a woman alive who could do any sort of damage, lasting or otherwise, to his ego.

  ‘Why not? You might be surprised.’

  Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her throat. This was heady stuff. She didn’t need it. She just didn’t have the right artillery to deal with the lazy caress of his words and the intimate huskiness of his voice. She could feel the pulse in her neck throbbing like a visible, uninvited sign of her excitement, and she wondered if he could see it too. There wasn’t much he ever missed. She looked down, seeking divine inspiration from the ground, but her breathing was laboured as she looked back up and her eyes tangled with his.

  She had no idea what malicious finger of fate made her lean towards him. She didn’t mean to. In fact, she had fought very hard not to. But lean towards him she did, reaching out to curl her fingers around the collar of his shirt so that she could pull him towards her; like a drowning man tasting his first drop of life-giving water, she parted her mouth and kissed him with a desperate, greedy urgency that thrilled and sickened her at the same time.

  She curved her treacherous body into his, pressing hard against him, and angling her legs so that his arousal could stimulate her aching wetness through the flimsy fabric of her dress.

  Lord knew, but anyone could come upon them at any given moment. Much as Andreas was up for adventure when it came to sex, being caught in full flagrante in his godfather’s house, like a randy teenager who couldn’t make it up the stairs in time, was not his thing. Even so, with her body doing wickedly arousing things against him, he couldn’t resist hitching up her dress so that he could plunge an exploratory finger into her moist wetness. He moved it, found that tender, swollen bud, pressed delicately until she gasped and shuddered and then very reluctantly withdrew his hand and straightened down her dress.

 
; ‘Not here,’ he said roughly, and just like that, in the space of two words, the moment was lost. Horrified, Elizabeth pulled away sharply as the consequences of her behaviour congealed in her head like a poisonous tumour. What was she doing? She had already succumbed to Andreas’s persuasive charm and jettisoned all her principles in the process. She knew that he was a one-hundred percent, red-blooded alpha male who took what he wanted, enjoyed it for a while and then moved on. Okay, so maybe he was telling the truth and he had already dumped Amanda before he’d begun sleeping with her, but that didn’t change the guy’s basic moral guidelines. He didn’t do love. He did sex. He didn’t do commitment. He did fast-escape just as soon as his boredom levels were breached.

  Furthermore, he had made a point of warning her off the guys at the party, and Toby in particular, and she could only think that he had done that because he hadn’t been ready for her to walk away. As he had once told her, there was nothing he relished more than a challenge. To quarantine the competition and move in for the kill. And she had aided and abetted and opened the door to more hurt and pain by giving him the green light.

  What did she need to get her house in order? She had ditched her pride for a couple of seconds of passion. The trade-off made her feel weakly sick, and she abruptly turned away from him.

  ‘I can’t do this,’ she muttered, snatching her arm away when he tried to hold her. God, pathetic fool that she was, she was trembling like a leaf in a high wind.

  ‘Stop pretending that you don’t feel what I feel.’

  ‘And stop asking me to pretend that it’s all that I want.’

  ‘I thought you wanted fun.’

  ‘I just said that. I…’ She looked at him steadily and drew in a deep breath. ‘I want the whole nine yards. You know that. So hopping into bed with you isn’t an option.’