“Come, let us return to the hotel.”
There was little use in making foolish demands to be left alone. Harris had offered his protection and while she might not have needed it before, she did need it now. She let him take her arm and loop it through his—a display of ownership to anyone who might attempt anything.
She would not normally appreciate such displays, but this tiny voice inside her whispered that she liked it. She supposed after much time alone, fighting to succeed in a man’s world, it was somewhat pleasant to have a man to rely on.
Not that she had any intention of relying on him permanently.
They strolled around the corner and found several waiting cabriolets. Harris helped her into the carriage then gave the driver the name of her hotel. The ale had made her body feel soft and boneless. She rested her head back against the padded seat. Stale cigar smoke clung to the fabric but once the door was shut, she could only focus on the scent of Harris’ cologne. He seated himself next to her. Too close.
Not close enough.
Oh, she didn’t know. So much of her longed to straddle him and kiss him, much like he’d kissed her in the hotel. A hunger so painful that it made her want to clutch her stomach, started up. It was made worse when he put his arm around her.
“Anna?”
“It’s been a long day,” she said, by way of explanation for her silence. Somehow she knew he would not believe her. No doubt, Harris knew exactly what she was thinking. Was he thinking the same?
The carriage moved forward, and she peered up at him. The shadows of the interior hid most of his expression but it was dark, intense. The same sensation of not being able to breathe struck her again but there was no escape.
She was not even sure she wanted it.
“Harris.”
His name escaped her in a breathy sigh. She hadn’t meant to utter it. Hadn’t even been aware it was on her tongue. But as soon as the word was out, she’d known the consequences of it and the meaning behind it.
It had been her begging.
A hand slid along her chin. She suppressed a shiver of delight. His palm was warm. He cradled her face and forced her to look into his eyes. In spite of the shadows, she felt herself getting lost. Although the urgent hunger refused to quell, she relished the gentle touch. No one had ever touched her like this.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
Harris brought his lips down on hers. She remained limp, at his will. He kissed the corner of her mouth and another tingle dashed down her spine. Then the other corner before placing his lips firmly across hers. Anna curled her hands around his neck in a bid to bring him closer. The gentle rocking movement of the carriage only added to the sensations as their bodies constantly knocked into each other.
She opened her mouth to him and a gentle moan escaped her when their tongues met. Desire coiled deep inside her. She clutched him tighter.
He groaned. His hands left her face and grasped her waist to pull her tight to him.
“Harris,” she said again, though this time there was no softness to the word. It was still a plea, however.
He deepened the kiss.
Anna couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t seem to get close enough. It was as though her clothes were a trap and she needed to be free from them. Only when her bare skin touched Harris’ would she be satisfied.
His lips moved down her neck and along her collar bone. She arched her breasts toward him. He flicked open the buttons of her jacket, revealing the rise of her breasts before slipping his fingers under the bodice of her gown. Her moan was not so gentle when he found her nipple and swept his fingers over it.
“God, Anna.”
Urging a breast from her bodice, he dropped his head and placed light kisses all over her flesh before closing his mouth around her nipple. The sweet satisfaction of the heat around her sensitive flesh made her close her eyes and push her fingers through his silken hair. She held him there while he feasted on her, muttering her name.
When he lifted his head, she opened her eyes to see the wild desire in his gaze. Likely it matched hers.
“God, I want you so badly, Anna.”
She nodded, dumb from need.
He drew her close and pressed her face against his neck while his hand fumbled around the hem of her skirts. She inhaled the scent of him and kissed his warm neck. She rested there while he pushed his hand up under gown and found the opening in her drawers. His fingers touched the inside of her thigh. She inhaled a sharp breath and felt her skin prickle from head to toe. Anna wriggled until his touch met her sensitive flesh. They both moaned.
“Oh Lord, Harris. I’m so sensitive.”
It had been a long time since a man had touched her, but she could not remember it ever being like this. One little touch had her trembling. It was almost too much yet not enough. She urged him on with the movements of her hips. Harris took what she offered and used a finger to tease her pearl. Around and around, and up and down. He had her biting down on her lip as he kept her pressed against him to smother her sounds.
Harris eased a finger inside her.
“Oh sweet Mary.”
He moved quickly, bringing her close to the edge and letting her hang on the precipice for a while. His clever fingers worked her into a frenzy of pleasure. She gripped him tight and stared at the curtain behind him while bursts of ecstasy exploded through her. She released a muffled squeal against him and loosened her grip on him. He eased his hand out of her drawers and let her rest against him for a few moments. Anna tried to comprehend what had happened but her brain refused to cooperate.
“Harris,” she said breathily.
“I know.”
The carriage came to a sudden stop, jarring her from the fog clouding her mind. She sat straight and readjusted her skirts. Harris chuckled and withdrew a handkerchief with which to clean his fingers before he stood to open the door. Heat scalded her cheeks.
The fresh night air did a little something to cool her down. She dragged in gulps of it to steady herself while Harris paid the driver and sent him on his way.
She turned to face him and tried not to be affected by his handsomeness. Why did he have to be so beautiful? Why did he have to make her feel this way? She could blame the alcohol for her weak behaviour but that would be too easy.
The truth of it was, she was unbelievably attracted to this man, and she imagined he really could make her feel all the things he promised after that incident. No other man had played her body so beautifully.
Nevertheless, this couldn’t happen again. She had her son to think of.
And your heart, a pesky voice whispered. After all, she had fallen for the very worst of men a long time ago and look where that had led her. It would be too easy to fall for Harris.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said. “You do not need to escort me in.”
He glanced at the hotel behind and a brow slowly lifted. “You don’t wish to invite me in?”
“No, I do not. Harris, that was a mistake; it won’t happen again.”
“It will.”
Damn him, why did he insist on being so infuriating? “It will not. I won’t let it.”
“Sooner or later, Anna, you will realise there’s no point in fighting this. I’m not sure why you even want to. You know what I can do to your body.”
“Harris,” she hissed, glancing around at the footman waiting by the hotel.
“And now I know what you feel like, what you look like when you orgasm. If you think I’m giving up the chance to know what it’s like when I’m buried deep inside you, you’re not as clever as I thought you were.”
Images assailed her. Her body, in spite of feeling wrung out, warmed to the idea. She shook her head and took a step back.
“That’s enough. I’m not interested in you. I will never be. Leave me alone, Harris.”
“Anna.” He took a step forward and closed the gap once more.
“No, Harris.” She pushed against his chest. “I do not need this. I
was perfectly happy until you came along. Cease playing these games. You played them the entire time you were at Stourbridge and now you insist on tormenting me further.”
“I played no games at Stourbridge unless you count me admiring your beauty and intelligence.”
“You know full well this—whatever this is—began there. I don’t need it, and I don’t want it.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Well, you will have to because I do not wish to see you again.” She thrust up her chin. “I trust you will not be visiting Stourbridge again and my business shall be concluded soon enough. We shall have no reason to face each other, and we can forget this whole sorry mess.”
“If you think this will be forgotten that easily, Anna,” he warned her, his voice low and dangerous, as he leaned in, “you are fooling yourself. I, for one, am not a fan of denying myself the truth. This will not be conquered. Even when you are alone in the country, you will remember my touch. You’ll crave it. I can guarantee you that.”
“No.” She shook her head vigorously. “I won’t. Now, good day to you, Lord Harris. I trust you will enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Spinning on her heel, she hurried in to the hotel, barely giving the doorman time to open the door. On shaky legs, she hurried across the polished marble floor. He would likely be watching her. She could almost feel his gaze upon her back. She would not look back though. If she did, she might prove him right.
And part of her knew, deep down, that he was right. She would not forget him so easily. But these were the choices she had to make. Her son or a lover. Her business or a lover. Loneliness or a broken heart.
She’d had her heart broken once before—and subsequently her life destroyed. She’d never make that choice again.
Chapter Seven
For the hundredth time that night, Harris asked himself why he’d accepted the invitation to the Earl of Hartledge’s dinner party. Each time the same answer came back. Because, when the invitation had come through, he’d just arrived home from Stourbridge and was looking for a distraction from Anna.
Hartledge’s dinner parties were known for interesting food and tiresome conversation. The food never did seem to outweigh the conversation. His brother was also in attendance with Lila. Though they had managed to speak a little before dinner, he had been placed down at the far end of the table and thus he had no decent company at all.
He was between the elderly dowager Viscountess Rotherham and a young girl whom he’d never laid eyes on before but had quietly informed him she was Miss Abigail Langley before steadfastly ignoring him for the entire evening in spite of every effort to drag her out of her shell. Although he kept wanting to tell himself he couldn’t recall the last time his charm had failed him, he knew that was a lie. Apparently his charm was broken.
Because, of course, it had failed on Anna yesterday, had it not?
Anna.
His gaze inevitably tracked to her. She had surprised him by being here yet again. There was no chance she genuinely wanted to be. And whilst many of Hartledge’s guests were bound by honour and obligation, she certainly was not. From the few glances she’d received and the many snubs from the female guests, it was clear she would have been better off remaining at home. Yet here she was, bold and brazen, laughing with a young fellow with golden hair that would have looked appropriate on a three-year-old little girl and certainly did not suit a grown man.
“Whelp,” he muttered to himself.
“Sorry, dear?” the viscountess asked. “You shall have to forgive me. It’s quite a din in here.”
“Nothing at all, my lady. I was simply commenting on the food.”
“Ah yes, Lord Hartledge has done well, has he not?”
“He had indeed.”
“Shame about some of the guests,” the elderly woman muttered, casting a gaze down the long length of the table toward Anna.
They were far enough apart that he could continue to stare at her all night if he wanted and no one would be able to figure out exactly whom he was staring at. But in spite of the distance between them, he saw everything. The way she touched her earring or pressed fingertips to her neck. He somehow heard her laugh over the noise of chatter. That only meant he would recall the sound of her muffled cries while he brought her to the edge and over.
Damn, he could still smell the scent of her—arousal mixed with the delicate scent of roses.
The viscountess cleared her throat, awaiting an answer. From the look on the old woman’s face, she was awaiting some slew of insults thrown Anna’s way. She’d be mightily disappointed.
“Hartledge has a good mix tonight,” he commented.
“Surely you do not approve of him, inviting such vulgarity to his table. I am sure she is only here because she will have persuaded the earl that she has some great secret about him. It really is quite disturbing how she manipulates the men of society, what with working at that awful place.”
He glanced at Anna and smiled. There was nothing vulgar about that woman. She radiated beauty and elegance in a ruby red gown. It could be thought of as too bold—the colour was delightfully sinful after all—but she stole the attention from everyone.
As near as he could tell, every man in attendance, unless they were too old or stupid, wanted Anna’s attention. And why would they not? She was stunning, intelligent, and more powerful than most of them thrown together.
Harris kept his smile in place as he turned his attention to the spiteful old thing. “I find it more disturbing that so many men of our society allow themselves to be manipulated. Perhaps they should have less of a need for secrets, then they would need no coercion. Besides—” he let his grin widen “—I can think of many people at this table with far more vulgar pasts. I can assure you, my lady, and you are a woman of this world so I am not sure why I need tell you this, that I am hardly a paragon of virtue.”
She opened her mouth, blinked at him, then shut it again. Turning her attention back to the main course, the woman muttered something about well I never and didn’t speak to him for the rest of the evening.
He considered it a victory of sorts. If anyone noticed he had failed to charm either woman at his side, no one made mention of it. At least he was able to enjoy his meal uninterrupted. Well, with the exception of needing to look down the table as Anna held court with all the men around her.
Why was she here? Why put herself through such scorn? He was beginning to understand her natural state of defence. When members of her sex were throwing vicious words at her whilst being quite happy to be sitting next to a chap like himself who was certainly far from an innocent man, he could not help feel indignant for her and annoyed at the standards of society.
The thought amused him slightly. When had he ever felt indignant about the rules of the world? Never before, to be sure. It was entirely Anna’s fault that he was even thinking on it.
The evening wore on, and a Connaught pudding was served. He watched Anna spoon in a mouthful of the dessert and heat traversed his body, centring down.
He could not give up, not yet. She’d avoided looking his way the entire evening, but she was aware of him or else she would not have kept her attention decidedly on only those around her. And if she was anything like him, the signs of a little fatigue meant she had remained awake all night, considering their encounter. He noticed each tiny suppressed yawn and took them as a sign of his impending victory.
Dessert finished and coffee served, the men and women moved into separate drawing rooms. Harris felt himself throwing longing looks at the door splitting the two sexes.
What a ridiculous tradition it was to go into separate rooms after dinner. Hell, he didn’t even smoke cigars so all he could do was nurse a brandy and consider the feminine wiles that were hidden behind the double doors of the room.
The men milled around the room in small groups, some by the fireplace, a few seated on the sofas. The portlier men stood by the slightly open windows, clearly in need of air after a long meal
and close company. Harris contented himself with lingering around the bureau that held the alcohol. He suspected he might need a good deal of it.
“You’re uncommonly quiet.”
Harris swirled the brandy around the glass in his hand and threw it back before facing his brother. “Don’t think you hold the title on being brooding.”
“I do not brood,” Ash protested.
“You do and you know it. I wouldn’t complain about it. It worked on Lila, did it not?”
He gave a triumphant grin. “It did indeed.” His twin leaned in. “Brooding will not work on Anna, though.”
“Why should I wish it to?”
Ash shook his head. “You really do think me a fool, do you not?” He took a sip of his drink. “Lila said you were interested in her, and now I’m convinced of it.”
“Does it matter if I am? Since when have you been interested in my love life, brother?”
“Since it became a love life and not just a sordid list of conquests.”
“A slip of the tongue,” he scoffed. “I thoroughly intend to continue on with conquests.”
Ash arched a brow. “And Anna?”
Harris hated that look. Though they might own the same face, Ash had a habit of making him feel an utter fool. Though there were only a matter of hours between them in age, since they were young boys those few hours had made a big difference, and Ash liked to play the big brother role. Harris smirked. As if he didn’t have enough older brothers as it was.
“I will conquest Anna,” he said, tightening his grip on the glass in his hand.
His brother chuckled. “I would warn you not to play with her—she’s been through a lot—but I don’t need to. Anna will never become a conquest.”
A sharp jab of jealousy scored his insides. He narrowed his gaze. “You proclaim to know her well.”
“We’re friends, nothing more.” Ash scowled. “Lila even questioned our relationship before we married. I cannot think where people are getting this impression from.”
“Perhaps because no young man would befriend a woman without ulterior motives?”
“You know full well, I had no ulterior motive.”
The Cynfell Brothers Page 59