She wet her lips nervously with her adorable little pink tongue. Her dark eyes were wide. Also good.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, allowing his rough cheek to brush her soft one. She smelled like spring flowers and optimism. “You want me to kiss you, Miss Andrews? Really kiss you?”
“Y … yes.” But her breaths were coming in short little gasps and her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings in her pretty throat.
He slid the fingers of one hand under her chin. He ran the fingers of his other down the length of her velvet neck. Then, slowly, so slowly, his mouth descended toward hers. Her eyes squeezed shut at the last second, and Jordan let his lips lightly brush hers.
He only meant to teach her a lesson. Only meant to touch her lips, once, twice, and then he would end it. His point would be made.
But the sweetness of her mouth surprised him. He brushed against her a third time and when her hands came up to snake around his neck and she fitted herself to his full length, that was Jordan’s undoing. He hadn’t expected such passion in the little miss. Hadn’t expected it, but was helpless not to respond to it.
The hand that had been caressing her neck moved down behind her back to tug her tightly against him. When her tongue tentatively touched his, that was it. He turned her in his arms and pushed her up against the side of the house. He braced his hands on either side of her head, his mouth slanted against hers, her lips parted, and his tongue brushed inside. Annie’s entire delectable little body shook. She moaned and Jordan went rock hard. Oh God, how exactly had this happened? He needed to stop. Now. It was insane for him to be kissing Annie on the side of the house. He hadn’t meant for this, hadn’t meant it at all. She was responding to him like a wanton, and oh God, he liked it.
He liked it too much.
* * *
Lord Ashbourne pulled his mouth away from hers, and her hands fell away from his neck. Annie’s eyes fluttered open. She trembled. Did she imagine it or was his breathing ragged too? She couldn’t look at him. Could only stare at the shadowy ground while she pressed her hand against her stomach, willing the butterflies to stop flying and for her breathing to return to normal.
She braced a hand against the cold stone wall to right herself. What in God’s name had that been?
A kiss. Yes, but so much more. She’d never experienced anything like it.
Without saying a word, Lord Ashbourne turned on his heel and stalked back inside the house. Thank goodness he hadn’t made a mocking comment. She couldn’t have stood it.
Annie counted to ten and willed her breathing back to normal. Lord Ashbourne had been right, she admitted to herself with a wry smile. She had been playing a game with a vastly superior player. What had she been thinking to taunt him like that in the first place? She just couldn’t stand his smugness. How he ordered her about, told her whom she could and could not dance with, pretended to know everything about rakishness and kissing. It was all too much. She had meant to call his bluff. Only now that he’d gone and kissed her, she was quite convinced Lord Ashbourne did, in fact, know everything about rakishness and kissing.
She bit her lip, watching his retreating form against the light shining from the house.
She knew instinctively. That kiss had been dangerous. And even more dangerous, she would be forced to be in his company for the next three weeks.
CHAPTER 8
The ride home from the Lindworths’ ball was, in a word, awkward. With Aunt Clarissa propped unceremoniously (and drunkenly) in the corner of the coach, Annie smoothed her skirts, cleared her throat from time to time, and stared out the window of Lord Ashbourne’s fine coach. She chewed her bottom lip, opened and closed her reticule for no reason whatsoever, and generally did whatever she could to forget the kiss she’d shared with the smolderingly handsome man who sat across from her.
And it certainly didn’t help matters that she was seeing him in a different light now. Confound it all. He was extremely handsome. Startlingly so at a close range, like sitting here across from him in his own well-appointed coach. And Frances had been right about his eyes. Those mesmerizing gray eyes. They were startling, amazing. They seemed to pull you into their depths and lose you in their silver pools.
Men like him had always intimidated Annie. He ran with a fast set populated with other perfect, beautiful people who amused themselves with wicked pursuits and scandalous affairs. Annie wanted no part of that life. She wanted one man. Just one man who would love her forever, give her his children, and stay by her side no matter what gorgeous temptation might entice him. She wanted a man who was steadfast and true. Not a handsome rake like Jordan Holloway.
She asked herself for the hundredth time what madness had prompted her to ask him to kiss her? She’d never been one for being bullied, and his eavesdropping and running Arthur off had incensed her. Lord Ashbourne thought he could do whatever he wanted with no impunity. His smug boldness had infuriated her.
He was so used to being adored by women, she’d meant to throw his kiss in his face and mock him. Knock him from his pedestal. Instead, she’d been kissed by a man who obviously knew exactly what he was doing. So much so that she’d felt it to the very tips of her toes. If he could kiss her like that, what else…? She shook her head. Very well. No more kisses with Lord Ashbourne. Point taken.
She glanced over at him and quickly looked away. He was cloaked in shadow. A particularly deep dark one crossed his face, obscuring his expression. She had the uncanny feeling that he was studying her, but she steadfastly avoided looking back at him. Instead she kept her gaze pinned out the window. But she couldn’t remember even one landmark they’d passed.
Thank goodness it would be over soon. Just three more weeks before Lily and Devon returned. Why did she have the feeling they would be the longest three weeks of her life?
Her mind drifted uneasily to Arthur. Her chest ached. Why hadn’t Arthur asked her to dance? Yes, Lord Ashbourne had apparently warned him not to, but still. If he’d really wanted to, wouldn’t he have asked her regardless? Tears gathered in the backs of her eyes. She shook her head and glanced at Lord Ashbourne. He gave her a knowing look, one with a trace of pity. She wanted to hate him for it.
And what would Arthur think if he knew she’d kissed Lord Ashbourne in the garden? The same garden she’d been standing in with him only moments earlier? The same garden where she’d asked him to kiss her? She winced. Bad form. But she’d only been trying to prove a point to Lord Ashbourne for being such a know-it-all, so arrogant, so … now she had absolutely no idea what point she’d been trying to make. How and when did things become so confusing?
The truth was, she’d really only asked him to kiss her because she didn’t think he’d do it. Frances said he was a rakehell, and apparently, a rakehell would kiss anyone. The fact that he’d kissed her just proved it. She’d managed to learn one thing at least. Rakehells did know how to kiss. Yes, they did. It had been an idiotic request, she realized now, but it was too late for recriminations. Besides, Annie didn’t believe in recriminations. Recriminations had kept her sister from happiness for five years and had nearly turned Lily into a widowed spinster. Yes, if such a thing could exist, Lily would have been one. Recriminations were for people who didn’t follow their hearts, and Annie would never make that mistake.
She and Lily were so different. Lily had always followed predictable rules and had had no fun. Lily had had no intention of marrying again until Lord Colton came back into her life—and thank goodness he had—but Annie had always wanted to marry. Marriage and family, children and a husband to truly love, those had been her dreams for as long as she could remember. And she’d known the moment she’d laid eyes on Arthur Eggleston the afternoon they’d met that he was her future husband.
If the last six months had taught her anything, it was that husband hunting was quite a tricky business. What had Arthur been thinking saying it didn’t matter when they got married? Of course it mattered. It mattered a great deal. She’d handle D
evon and Lily. She’d made that clear to him. So why wasn’t Arthur coming up to scratch? Was his blasted sister really to blame?
The only sound in the coach was Aunt Clarissa’s intermittent snores. Annie shook her head. Poor Aunt Clarissa really was the worst chaperone in existence. Which had suited Annie just fine, until she’d realized Lord Ashbourne was her second, unofficial chaperone.
She dared a glance into the shadows at Lord Ashbourne. She cleared her throat, wanting to die of embarrassment. “You won’t tell Arthur that we—” she whispered. Oh, she simply could not bring herself to say it.
“Kissed? No, don’t worry. He might actually send his father to fight me. And while I’m quite sure I would trounce the old buzzard, I don’t relish spilling the blood of a man so much older than myself.”
Annie regarded him coolly. “You don’t have to be so sarcastic, you know? A simple no would have sufficed.”
She could hear his smile in the darkness. “Just tell me one thing,” Lord Ashbourne replied. “What is it exactly that you see in Eggleston?”
Annie crossed her arms over her middle and glared into the shadows. “As if you really care.”
“I do, actually. I’m fascinated. Why a woman with your obvious good looks and connections is so set on marrying that fool—”
Annie let out a short laugh. “A woman with my obvious good looks and connections? Why, now I know where you got your reputation for being charming.” She shook her head. “But I’ll tell you, on one condition.”
“What condition?”
“If you promise to stop insulting him.”
He snorted. “I cannot make that promise.”
“Why not?”
“It’s hardly my fault. The man is named after something that drops from a chicken’s arse.”
Annie pressed her lips together. “Oh, how exceedingly mature of you.”
Lord Ashbourne’s crack of laughter bounced off the coach’s interior and Aunt Clarissa stirred. He glanced at her and lowered his voice. “It’s true. It’s too easy not to mention it. What if I promise to do my best not to insult him? Then will you tell me?”
Annie leaned forward a bit and so did Lord Ashbourne. A shaft of moonlight illuminated his chiseled cheekbones and fell across his firm lips, highlighting just one of his bright gray eyes. She sucked in her breath, then glanced down at her hands folded in her lap. Very well, Frances was entirely right. She would not quibble. The man was swoon-over handsome.
She shook her head to clear it of such thoughts and concentrated on his question. Why was she interested in Arthur?
“Let’s see. He’s kind and generous. He’s handsome and intelligent. He’s clever and he’s an excellent brother and son.”
Jordan rolled his eyes. “The man sounds like a positive saint. How dull.”
“But most importantly, he loves me.” She nodded.
His eyes narrowed on her. “Love? Is that it?” He sounded incredulous.
“Yes.” She nodded again but with a bit less confidence this time.
“Seems to me, when a man is in love he doesn’t make excuses for postponing a wedding.”
Annie gritted her teeth. She refused to allow him to mock her. “What would you know about it? Aren’t you famous for not wanting to marry?”
He shrugged. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’ve never been in love.”
Annie snapped her mouth shut. She sat back against the seat, silently contemplating his words for a moment She could not be more astonished. “You have? Been in love, I mean?”
“I once thought I was in love.” His voice was solemn, quiet.
“What happened?” She eyed him carefully. She couldn’t fathom, couldn’t imagine the arrogant and dashing Lord Debonair in love.
“Suffice it to say things didn’t work out. It turns out love is a silly notion invented by poets and fools.”
He seemed ready to change the subject and Annie dared a glance at him. “May I ask you another question?”
He nodded.
“Why do you insist upon insulting Arthur? I do not flatter myself and think it has anything to do with me.”
Lord Ashbourne arched a brow. “It does, actually. Are you surprised to know it? I didn’t give two whits about Eggleston before I met you. I barely knew he existed, really. I mean, he is the second son of a baron, not exactly someone I rub elbows with, but when Devon pointed out to me that the cad refused to dance with you at your come-out, and then he did so wrong by you, carting you off to Gretna Green—I’ve had it in for the bloke ever since. I just don’t particularly like the fellow.”
Annie tried to ignore the little shudder of happiness that passed through her body at his words. “Ah, so you’re chivalrous now, are you?”
Lord Ashbourne flashed her a charming smile. “Of course not,” he scoffed. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my black reputation.”
Annie bit her lip to keep from smiling. It was nice of him, actually, to be so concerned about her. And the way he said it in that smooth steady voice made her believe he really meant it. But the fact was it was her life to do with what she would. She didn’t need Lily or Devon and certainly not Lord Ashbourne telling her what to do. They didn’t know how she felt.
“I’ll admit it was bad of Arthur not to dance with me at my come-out, but he had a very good reason.”
Jordan gave her a skeptical look. “Really? What’s that?”
“He had just been informed by his father that he shouldn’t be allowed to dance with me. You see, I had no dowry at the time.”
Jordan shook his head. “That brings me to my next quarrel with the lad.”
“He’s not a lad, he’s—”
“He’s a lad to me, and you should let me finish. If there was a young lady with whom I wanted to dance, you can bet a blasted fortune I wouldn’t let my father keep me from it.” His voice held a savage note.
A bell went off in Annie’s brain. Those words he’d just uttered held more pain than he probably meant them to. Despite herself, she was intrigued. First a secret past love and now this? Perhaps Lord Ashbourne wasn’t just a devil-may-care rogue after all. Fascinating, really. But she forced herself to remain focused on the matter at hand. “That’s easy for you to say; your father is no longer living.”
He arched a brow. “Believe me. I didn’t listen to my father even when he was alive.”
She played with the strings to her reticule. “Be that as it may, Arthur and I”—she stopped at his raised brow—“Mr. Eggleston and I have put that little incident behind us. It’s all in the past.”
“And the elopement?”
Annie’s cheeks burned. She glanced at Aunt Clarissa. Still asleep, thank heavens. Annie was also thankful for the darkness in the coach, for she was certain her face was bright pink. “It was entirely my idea. Arthur was just doing as I asked,” she whispered.
“He shouldn’t have,” Lord Ashbourne said with surprising vehemence in his voice. “That’s the problem. He should have known your reputation would have been shattered had you two succeeded. He should have talked you out of it.”
Annie expelled her breath harshly. “There’s no winning with you.”
Lord Ashbourne shrugged. “I’m not trying to win.”
Annie took a deep breath and attempted to start again. “Arthur and I both want the same things. Children, marriage, a family.”
“Are you sure that’s what he wants?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Lord Ashbourne snorted. “No, they don’t. I am one, actually, who wants no part of such societal trappings. And I’d venture to guess your precious Mr. Eggleston doesn’t either or he would have married you by now.”
Annie jerked her head to the side as if he’d slapped her. She sucked in her breath. His words stung. More than they should have. But she quickly shook it off. Regardless of the other nice things he’d said, this was exactly why she was not about to let her guard down and befriend Lord Ashbourne. And she wasn’t about to let him get the upper hand ei
ther.
“You don’t know anything about Arthur and me. Besides, you are an earl, are you not? If you don’t marry and have heirs, your title will pass out of your direct line.”
His perfect white smile flashed in the darkness and he settled back against his seat so Annie could no longer see his face. Good. It was much easier to fight with him when she wasn’t aware of how handsome he was.
“Ah, I have the perfect plan,” he answered.
There was that smugness in his tone again. “Which is?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I happen to have three younger brothers, all of whom are perfectly healthy and strapping. My first nephew shall be my heir.”
“Lily told me your brothers aren’t married either.”
“Not yet. But they don’t have an aversion to the institution the way I do. They’ll come up to scratch eventually, and I’ll have an heir without the tediousness of it all.”
“Tediousness?” Annie scoffed. “That’s a horrible way to put it. We’re talking about love and marriage.”
“No, we’re talking about false emotions, an ungodly institution, and what amounts to a business arrangement between two people who couldn’t care less about one another.”
Annie’s mouth fell open and she stared at him, aghast. “So that’s it? You were in love once and never want to repeat the experience?”
“Something like that.”
“What if I told you I believe we all only have one true love in a lifetime?”
His voice was tight. “All the more reason for me to remain a bachelor if that’s the case.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You are positively mad.”
His tone remained mocking, jovial. “No. I’m merely attempting to get you to think twice about chasing after Arthur Eggleston. The man isn’t worth it.”
She clenched her fist in her skirts. “I am not chasing after Mr. Eggleston.”
“Aren’t you?” She couldn’t see in the darkness, but she just knew that cocky brow was arched.
“Arthur loves me, and we plan to marry as soon as possible. That’s what we were discussing in the garden before you rudely interrupted.”
Secrets of a Runaway Bride Page 6