Countess Curvy: A Curvy Girl's Earl

by Reed, Kristabel

  Her gaze roamed restlessly over the window display, but she couldn’t force herself to go inside. Moving her shoulders to try and shake off the impatient tension knotting there, Audrey kept walking. She didn’t want a hat—she wanted Duncan.

  London just wasn’t the same without her own personal earl as her tour guide.

  She couldn’t believe how lucky she’d been to meet Duncan, to accept his invitation to dinner. Even if she’d questioned it, and him, at first. These few days had been quite pleasurable, and for a brief moment, Audrey wondered what it’d be like to stick around longer than she’d intended. She walked faster with that thought, as if trying to escape it, but it refused to be shaken.

  They’d been together for only a few days, and despite the toe-curling kisses and the fantastic sex, it still had only been a few days. A handful of dates and days spent wandering London hand in hand. And now she missed him.

  Yesterday, she hadn’t enough time between him dropping her off to shower and change and him picking her up again to really miss him. Today, with the morning spread behind her and the afternoon empty ahead of her, Audrey found it difficult not to second-guess herself. Well, second-guess pretty much everything about the two of them.

  After the scrumptious and incredibly erotic dinner at Shadows, they’d planned to simply gather a few of her things and return to Duncan’s townhouse. It hadn’t worked quite like that, and she knew they’d woken the neighbors when he’d pushed her against the wall, all tongue and teeth, and taken her so hard and fast, Audrey had screamed her orgasm before he’d even entered her. She’d screamed his name several times after that, as well.

  Even now her blood pumped hot through her, her breath short, her mind thinking of all the wicked things she could do to him with her fingers and tongue alone.

  Audrey cleared her throat and stopped at a small bakery to buy a cup of coffee. She wanted a cold shower, but didn’t want to return to her hotel room just yet. Slipping her cell out from her purse, she looked for a text or call from him, but nothing. She frowned at the blank display and put it in an outside pocket so she’d hear it when he did call.

  Oh, she had it bad.

  Walking slowly along the streets, she tried to look around, to see the city for what it was. To do to London what she’d never done in New York and really experience the city.

  But all she could think about was Duncan. He’d left her that morning with a lingering kiss and a promise he’d wrap up his work by early afternoon and they could spend another day together.

  As the minutes passed and she received not even a text from him that he’d been caught up with work, she faltered.

  The afternoon sun hid behind the buildings, casting uneven shadows on the street. She’d left the hotel late, and now it was approaching four. She looked at her phone again, but there was still nothing from Duncan. Was this it, then? she wondered, with the knot in her stomach tightening. The inevitable brush-off?

  Work had always been a convenient excuse. Damn it. Audrey preferred to be the one to walk away first; it’d always been best. Best for her. That way, she walked away on her terms, and she definitely preferred a good breakup on her terms rather than his. Oh, but this was stupid of her.

  This was a fantasy; she’d always known that. And Duncan had probably been living out some stupid chubby-girl fantasy. He’d wanted a full-bodied woman with boobs and hips after those stick figures he’d dated.

  Stopping at a corner, Audrey looked at her phone one last time, the screen still blank of any message from Duncan, and hailed a cab. She tried not to think about Duncan on the drive back, tried not to remember her almost giddy anticipation as she’d kissed him goodbye this morning.

  Paying the driver, she absently waved to the concierge on duty and headed for the elevators. A man infatuated—even infatuated with the undeniable lust between them—didn’t ignore the girl all day, did he?

  The door slammed behind her, and though she hated herself for doing it, Audrey looked at the hotel’s phone, but no message light blinked at her. The sheets had been changed and the bed made, and the towels Duncan had used this morning had been taken away, replaced by freshly laundered ones.

  Nothing remained of their night and morning together.

  Shaking off her sadness at that thought, Audrey pulled out her suitcase and heaved it onto the bed. Despite her anger with herself over not walking away first—and not seeing the signs that usually prompted her to walk first—there probably wasn’t a reason to leave now, to run back to New York. But she really had no interest in sightseeing London without him. Pathetic.

  Taking the last of her toiletries from the bathroom, she stuffed them into her suitcase and waited for the concierge to change her ticket to New York. Audrey glanced around the room, that same self-anger and sadness warring within her, and picked up the pen and paper beside the phone.

  “You’re set, Miss Mills,” the woman said through the phone and rattled off her new confirmation number. “The email confirmation and ticket will be emailed to you.”

  “Thank you,” Audrey said and hung up, still staring at the blank hotel stationery.

  She needed to write Duncan a note. She may want to leave first, to break things off with him rather than wait for him to do so, but she couldn’t just leave London without a word. That’d be inexcusably rude, and her mother had raised her to be honest, not rude.

  Duncan.

  She stopped and looked at the word. What the hell was she going to say? Had a great time, thanks for the memories?

  Audrey cringed and nearly scratched out his name, wanting to start over. She was certain Emily Post had an etiquette tip for this, but Audrey had no idea what it was.

  The knock on the door startled her. Was that the bellman already? Panicked, she looked down at the mostly blank paper. She hadn’t written her note to Duncan yet! Distracted, Audrey yanked open the door and stared, dumbfounded…at Duncan. He looked at her bemusedly, but his smile warmed something inside her, and damn it! Yes, it still curled her toes.

  “Oh. Hi.” What a sad, pitiful greeting, Audrey thought, even as Duncan stepped closer and kissed her.

  Unable to help herself, arousal and confusion trying to overtake her, Audrey kissed him back. Then abruptly pulled away.

  He frowned at her and stepped into the short hallway. “That’s all I get?” he asked as the door slammed behind him. “After not seeing you all day?”

  Audrey struggled for words but couldn’t think of one. Not one. The entire English language suddenly vanished from her brain.

  “Oh,” Duncan said and turned to her with a smile. “You’ve packed for our trip.”

  “Trip?” she asked. Ah, there was her command of language.

  “Yes.” The word was clipped, and the frown had returned. “Where were you going then?”

  “Home,” she managed, despite her utter confusion. “I think it’s time to go home, Duncan,” she added.

  He folded his arms over his chest, that frown deepening. “Why?” he demanded, and she felt her confusion double. “You said this was your vacation and you’d be here for at least another week.” His arms dropped and he stepped closer, grabbing her arms. “Has something happened?” he asked, now very much concerned.

  “No, nothing’s happened,” she said, completely unsure what the hell had just happened. “Everyone’s fine. I don’t want to overstay my welcome. And,” she said, watching his face carefully. She tried for a smile but found, for once, that she was unable to offer her patent breakup smile. Audrey frowned and finished, “I’d like to depart while there’s still mystery between us. We’ll have fond memories of this time.”

  She paused and tried to rectify that last sentence. She tried for a smile and knew she failed miserably. “After all, it’s better to leave them wanting.”

  Audrey winced. She’d never have written that in her note. Talk about overly dramatic!

  “Audrey,” he said slowly, looking so intently at her she swore he saw straight through to her soul.
Talk about dramatic. “I’m not a fan of the mystery drama,” Duncan said, confused. “Nor am I a fan of you not being here in the morning.”

  Confused by his confusion, by the very fact that he stood in her hotel room, Audrey struggled for something to say. The second knock on the door interrupted them. Cursing what had to be the bellman this time, Audrey once again yanked open the door.

  A delivery boy stood on the other side with a large bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. “Audrey Mills?” the boy asked, his pale face peeking around the flowers.

  Behind her, Duncan made a disgruntled sound and yanked the delivery from the boy’s hands. He said something to the boy, who squeaked out an apology and left. Audrey knew she understood the exchange, but not for the first time her grasp of the English language escaped her.

  What the hell was going on today?

  “These,” Duncan said, his lips tight with annoyance, “were supposed to be delivered before noon.”

  “Ah.” It was the best she could do. He stepped back, and she saw the note attached. Before she could think about it, Audrey snatched the little card and opened it.

  I’ll be late, but will pick you up this evening. There’re several things I’d like to do with you.

  Audrey read the note over again and felt extremely stupid. She’d let every single insecurity she had influence her. And she knew she did this; she did this all the time. She ran from the conclusion of everything. And she knew, knew, there was nothing to run from here. This was only a fantasy, a lovely holiday romance.

  So why had she run like a heartbroken schoolgirl?

  Because she’d been scared. And foolish.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, still holding the greenery and chocolates. He looked so endearing standing there in her hotel room, with the delivery in his hands.

  “Has this been what this is all about?” he asked. “You’re leaving because you thought I was done with you?”

  “No.” She took the items from his hands and scrambled for an explanation that wasn’t the exact truth he’d just spoken. Dumping the box on the desk, she turned to face him. “I simply thought it was time to go home.”

  “Thought?” he asked, his voice low, sensual but even as he steadily gazed at her. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?”

  “I don’t know, Duncan,” she admitted. “Shouldn’t we—”

  “I wanted to invite you to the country,” he interrupted. “That would be a new experience, wouldn’t it? And didn’t you come to England for new experiences?”

  She couldn’t read his expression, and desperately wanted to know what he thought. His blue eyes held hers and his body leaned into her as if to drive home his point. But in his gaze, Audrey saw only mild interest and the contrast did nothing to ease her confusion. She studied him for another heartbeat and then saw it, what she’d been too afraid to see before. The skin around his lips tightened with something.

  Was it annoyance, frustration, or…fear? She couldn’t be sure; she had known him for so short a time.

  Licking her lips, she struggled to answer. He didn’t show any emotion, not overtly, but when Audrey looked, really looked, she saw more feeling than she thought possible after only a few days, a couple dates, and two nights of incredible sex.

  The arms folded over his chest were stiff with holding that emotion back, and the band tightening her chest loosened just a fraction.

  Slowly, Audrey nodded and smiled. “I suppose I did.” Shaking her head, at herself, at him, she added, “And I guess it’s rude of me to cut our fun short.”

  Duncan stepped closer, and his arms fell from his chest; she saw some of the tension leave him. “Oh, yes,” he agreed. His arms wrapped around her, but he held her loosely. “You’ll have to make it up to me in all sorts of wicked ways.”

  He didn’t kiss her, but the look in his eyes held enough heat to make her shiver in anticipation. And the way he said wicked ways had her insides tingling all the more. Audrey swallowed and licked her lips, enjoying the way his eyes followed the movement.

  “I think I can manage that,” she agreed with a throaty laugh. “I have a very vivid imagination.”

  Chapter Eight

  Through half-closed eyes, sated from their recent stop along the side of the road, Audrey watched Duncan. He maneuvered the late model Bentley along the narrow, winding roads, the hand on the gearshift taunting her. His long, slender fingers held the stick shift easily, moving between gears with a fluid grace she envied.

  Not for his ability to drive a stick, but because of the way he touched the car like he touched her. Long fingers on the gearshift with soft strokes that made her breath catch. The smoothness with which he moved, his movements gliding as his mouth glided over her skin.

  Audrey swallowed hard and tore her gaze from him. She stared blindly out the window at the view speeding by. But like the preverbal moth to a flame, her gaze returned to Duncan.

  His hair was mussed now, from her fingers. And though she couldn’t see it beneath his once again buttoned-up shirt, Audrey knew she’d left a mark between shoulder and neck when he’d made her scream. A flush of clawing need twisted through her. She fisted her hands in her lap and tried very, very hard not to lean over and nip his neck.

  Audrey had no idea how far from his place they were, or even where they were, but couldn’t wait to get there. She hoped he had gardens—she really wanted to take him in the gardens, in one of those traditional English Gardens.

  And those thoughts weren’t helping her self-control one damn bit. She swallowed again and licked her lips, struggling to even her breathing.

  Duncan’s groan startled her, and she opened eyes she didn’t remember closing to see him watching her mouth. Last night she hadn’t been able to read him in her hotel room. She’d struggled to understand his reaction to her packing up and almost leaving without a word.

  But, oh, when he looked at her like that, eyes wolfish and hungry and flicking from her own gaze to her lips, he was so easy to read.

  Audrey uncurled her fist and trailed her fingers up his arm, watching in amused satisfaction as his fingers gripped the stick shift tighter. She brushed her nails over the side of his neck and heard him, unsuccessfully, stifle another groan.

  “Are we almost there?” she asked, surprised at how low and seductive her own voice sounded.

  “Yes.” It was a growl of need and when he shifted again, the gears grinded.

  She pushed off the seat and leaned across the center console. “Good,” she whispered into his ear, arousal tightening through her.

  “Audrey,” he ground out and with another laugh she sat back down and desperately tried to control herself.

  It wasn’t long before they drove up a long drive, manicured lawns on either side, to a magnificent stone house. Manor, she supposed, a gorgeous manor house that looked more like something out of a Regency Romance than a contemporary country house.

  “Some country place,” she said, awed. “I thought it was going to be a two-room country house with a garden.” She’d really hoped this manor house still had a garden. Really hoped. “This.” She waved her hand at the place. “This is just a little bit bigger.”

  Duncan chuckled. “Just a little bit. I do all the cleaning myself on a weekend.”

  Audrey laughed again as he pulled up the gravel drive and parked before a massive door. Welcome to Downton Abbey, she thought, trying not to gape. How American of her!

  “A man who cleans?” she said instead. “Sold. Can I wrap you up and ship you back to New York?”

  The heat in his sharp blue eyes made her forget what she’d said.

  “You can wrap me in anything you want.” His voice flowed over her, velvet against her skin, pure arousal. Everything was sexier with a British accent.

  Audrey grasped at the threads of their conversation and managed a laugh. It wasn’t the light, teasing one she’d hoped for but a come-hither sound that aroused her as much as it seemed to Duncan.

  “Just rememb
er,” she said, “when I get you back, we’ll have to wrap a scarf around the door so my roommates don’t interrupt our doctor/nurse game.”

  “A scarf,” he whispered, his mouth a breath from hers. She shivered again and tried to catch her breath. “And a game. You like to play games, hmm? I like it.”

  “I love to play games.” She smiled. “And they’re always more fun with just two.”

  “That they are.” His lips teased hers with not the hard kiss she’d imagined, not even the slow, thorough exploration that drove her crazy. But he pressed his lips to hers, in promise of things to come. He pulled back before she could even tangle her fingers in his hair.

  Before she’d recovered her breath, or even remembered where they were, Duncan had come around the car and opened the door for her. His hand wrapped around hers, and she felt that strange arousing jolt at his touch. Audrey grinned up at him as they walked up the steps to the wide doors.

  The manor house was incredible, and though she knew she’d love to explore every nook and cranny of the historic building, she was more interested in exploring all of Duncan’s nooks and crannies. At the top of the steps, she sent him a wicked look and shivered at the answering one she received in return.

  Would pushing him against the front door of what was obviously his ancestral home and wrapping her lips around him really be that highly inappropriate?

  The door opened and her grin faltered when a butler—a real butler—opened the door. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment, but she looked the man in the eye and tried not to think about what she’d been planning to do with, and to, Duncan in the many rooms of this house. She sent the man a bright smile and tried to push those wicked thoughts aside.

  She wasn’t very successful.

  Okay, so they’d have to be a tad more discrete in the house, with the staff around. Audrey had to admit, as she shrugged off her coat and handed it to the butler, that she hadn’t added them into her fantasy. Ah, well, it’d be more fun to hide from the staff anyway. Make their already fantastic sex all the better. If that was possible.