“Shocking, I know,” Steele replied in a soothing voice. “I will take care of it immediately.” He drew Eloise forward, and she took Castle’s arm and began to lead him away. Steele followed, but not before he gave Aden an oddly conspiratorial wink.
As Aden took Castle’s seat, Vivien let out a shaky breath. Although grateful one crisis had been averted, she did not look forward to the next.
“Well, that was amusing,” drawled Barrymore. “But perhaps we could turn our attention back to the business at hand.”
“Of course,” said Aden, who began to deal the cards.
Across the table, Kit rolled his eyes at her, panicked. Since Vivien could do nothing about that, she picked up her cards and arranged them. Aden had adroitly backed her into a corner, and there was no choice but to gather her wits and play through the rest of the rubber.
The next hour turned into an epic nightmare as Aden’s tally steadily increased. Even worse, her nerve deserted her as the evening wore on and Aden trumped her repeatedly. Kit made it worse, taking foolish risks in an effort to recoup their losses.
But it was more than simple mistakes and lost nerves. It was Aden. Vivien had played against the best, but she’d never encountered someone as skilled and intuitive as him. He never faltered, never made a bad move. Blast him, the cards had so far favored him too, giving him one strong hand after another.
Two hours later, Vivien found herself staring in horror at her tally. Not only had she lost all her winnings from earlier in the evening, she’d lost most of her stake, too. Rather than acquiring the means to rescue Kit, she’d made the situation infinitely worse.
“Well, St. George,” Barrymore said with a laugh. “It was a lucky night for me when you walked in the door. So, Mrs. Smith. Another rubber? A chance to recoup your losses?”
Vivien swallowed with a throat as dry as cinders. Panic tightened her chest, making it impossible to speak. Disaster no longer simply waited at her door. It had moved in and taken up residence.
“I think not,” Aden said. “Mrs. Smith is finished with games, at least for this portion of the evening.” He rose to his feet and held out a hand. “In fact, I will be escorting her home.”
Barrymore studied them for a moment and then guffawed. “So, you do know her. I thought this felt personal. Well, have at it, my friend. God knows you’ve earned the right to take your pleasure with the lady.”
From the look on Aden’s face, pleasure was the last thing on his mind.
“Thank you, sir,” she managed in a low tone. “But Mr. Shaw will be escorting me home tonight.”
As if waking from a trance, Kit lurched to his feet.
“No, he won’t.” Aden’s tone brooked no opposition. “You will be leaving with me, immediately.”
“See here, St. George,” Kit spluttered. “You have no right to order us around.”
Aden ignored him, instead gently grasping her hand and drawing her to her feet. Vivien felt like a puppet on a string, unable to resist.
Kit jerked forward. “I’m warning you, St. George. You have no right to touch my—”
“Be quiet,” Vivien hissed. She cast a quick look about the room. As she feared, they were drawing attention. She took Aden’s arm, shaking her head at Kit.
Aden tucked her against him and ushered her to the door. When they reached it, he moved behind her, keeping one hand upon her waist. His touch was light yet possessive, and a shivering sensation vibrated through every part of her body. She felt the heat of him along her back, a barely contained blaze. That was his anger, so carefully repressed during their game and now struggling to break free.
Vivien sighed as she made her way down the stairs to the front door. Her actions had tempted the devil, and now he would surely take his due.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Vivien, Aden, and Kit huddled under the porch of Cormorant House, avoiding the icy rain spattering down. Between the foul weather and the late hour, Jermyn Street stood quiet with only a few carriages waiting in front of the gaming hells and bawdy houses.
Expelling a tense breath, Vivien threw back her veils to let the air cool her overheated skin. She didn’t relish explaining her behavior to Aden, but she was grateful to quit the stifling, nerve-wracking environment of the club.
It was a temporary respite, unfortunately. Aden might have a bone to pick with her, but she had a whole graveyard to pick with him. His meddling had cost her four thousand pounds. Not only would Kit be unable to make a down payment to the moneylender, but Vivien had also lost a significant portion of her own savings, making it that much harder to stake herself at the tables. And the fact that Aden was the man who’d fleeced her made it that much more difficult to bear.
He glanced down at her and let out a smothered curse. With a quick movement, he flipped her veils back down over the brim of her hat.
“What are you doing?” she snapped, grabbing the swaths of fabric to pull them back up. “I’m about to expire from the heat of that dreadful place.”
“We’re not in the clear, in case you’ve failed to notice,” he growled. “And if you found it so damn dreadful, I wonder why the hell you stayed.”
She ignored the second part of his statement, instead making an exaggerated show of perusing the streetscape. “There isn’t a person in sight. And I’ll thank you to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Yes, by God,” Kit jumped in, flapping his arms in an agitated fashion. “You’ve truly rolled us up tonight, Captain. Vivi had Castle and Barrymore on the ropes until you came along and spoiled everything. What the devil are we to do now?”
Aden slowly turned and fastened a murderous gaze on Kit. Even in the flickering light of the door lamp, Vivien could read the frigid disbelief in his dark eyes.
She laid a hand on her brother’s arm, pressing it in silent warning. Lord knows she shared his frustration and anger, but a brawl on the front steps of a gambling house would be a disaster.
Kit subsided with a grumble, satisfying himself with a seething stare. He’d been fighting his resentment even before tonight’s disaster, the result of Aden’s grilling this afternoon. According to Kit, Aden had thoroughly dressed him down and had ordered him to stay away from the cent per cents, the tables, and the racetrack. Vivien had supported Aden’s view, at least until he’d shown up tonight and cleaned her out.
“Why are we standing here, anyway?” Kit demanded of Aden. “It’s bloody freezing.”
“I’m waiting for Mr. Steele’s carriage so I can escort Lady Vivien home. You, however, are free to do as you bloody well choose. In fact, why don’t you take yourself off immediately? I find I’ve had quite enough of your baffle-headed idiocy for one day,” Aden said with brutal frankness.
Vivien resisted the urge to slap her hand to her forehead. Was she always to be surrounded by bad-tempered males who ordered people about?
She forestalled Kit’s bristling response by stepping between the two men. The sooner she separated them, the better. “Kit, there’s no need for you to stand around in this horrible weather, and it’s not so late, after all. Weren’t you going to join some of your friends later? Or perhaps you could drop in to your club for a brandy.”
Her brother goggled at her. “Vivi, it’s after three in the morning, and it’s freezing out. After the hellish night we’ve had, all I want to do is go home to bed.”
“Then you can walk to Blake House,” Aden said. “The fresh air will do you good. I need to speak privately with Mrs. Smith.”
He took her arm and nudged her down the steps as an elegant landau rattled out from the mews behind Jermyn Street. When the coachman pulled up in front of them, Aden pulled her over to the street. He opened the door, wrapped his big hands around her waist, and tossed her up with ruthless efficiency onto the cushioned bench. Vivien let out a startled squawk and fell back on the squabs, her veils tangling up as her hat pitched forward over her eyes.
As she struggled to right herself, the carriage dipped with Aden’s added weight.
“But why can’t we all ride home together?” Kit called in a plaintive voice.
Muttering under his breath, Aden knocked on the roof of the carriage and the coachman set the horses bowling down the street, leaving poor Kit behind. Vivien finally managed to push back her hat and free herself from her entangling veils.
“That was incredibly rude,” she said. “There was no reason Kit couldn’t have come with us.”
He leaned back on the opposite seat and slowly crossed his arms across his brawny chest. Masculine ire shimmered in the air between them. “There was a very good reason. I was on the verge of killing him for being such an idiot, and for allowing you to act like an idiot, too.”
The bubble of frustration building in her chest popped. “Everything was fine until you came along,” she snapped, waving her hand. “I had the situation perfectly under control.”
He stared in open disbelief. “You were gambling in the most notorious hell in London, challenging two degenerate rakes. Do you have any idea what would have happened if they discovered your identity? Besmirching your reputation would have been the least of it. Both would have had no compunction to try to blackmail you into their beds—probably at the same time, too. You rendered yourself completely vulnerable to their foul advances. By even stepping foot in such a place you acted the worst sort of jade. After what you’ve been through, I had not thought you so careless of your safety. It would appear I’ve been sadly mistaken.”
Vivien flinched, stunned by the disdain on his features, so harsh in the dim light of the carriage lamp. His words slashed her pride into a thousand ribbons. She pressed a gloved hand over her breastbone as if to calm the sickening gyrations of her heart. Closing her eyes, she took slow, deep breaths.
She opened her eyes and their gazes tangled, his now displaying less anger but more frustration. As she shifted in her seat, her knees bumped against his long, booted legs. The small space enclosed them in claustrophobic intimacy, and a heightened sense of emotion swirled in the air between them, fracturing the air in Vivien’s lungs into uneven breaths.
He sighed and pressed an index finger to the bridge of his nose. “Vivien—”
“I did what I needed to do,” she snapped. “And if that forced me to act the jade, then so be it. But why did you challenge me in so callous a fashion? Now what am I to do? I could ill afford to lose even one pound of my savings, and now I have lost thousands. Both Kit and I will suffer for it.”
“If you had stayed home as I requested,” he growled, leaning forward, “you would not have been placed in so untenable a position.” His broad shoulders seemed to fill up half the carriage.
She resisted the impulse to shrink into the squabs. Aden didn’t frighten her, not really. She knew he would never harm her. But with that glowering expression on his stone-cut features and his air of primal, aggrieved masculinity, he cut an intimidating figure.
Well, she would not be intimidated. She adopted her haughtiest air, trying to stare down her nose at him. But even squashed into the carriage, he loomed over her.
“I have no intention of sitting home like a poor dab of a thing, unable to influence the course of my own life,” she said. “I am more than capable of looking after myself.”
He slapped his palm to his forehead. “Really? That didn’t appear to be the case when I found you locked in a grotty cave just over a week ago.”
Her dignity abandoned her in a rush. “Yes, really,” she bit out. “And you are a brute to throw that ugly memory in my face, and no gentleman for fleecing me in that card game tonight. You have put me in an awful position when you promised to protect me, and I will never forgive you for that.”
He responded with a truly foul curse, and she couldn’t help uttering a gasp. He dug into the pocket of his greatcoat and drew out a thick wad of notes.
“The money is yours, Vivien. Did you really think I would keep it?” He flung the packet onto her lap. “I do not fleece women, and I especially do not fleece you.”
Her mind blanked as she stared at the notes. When a few of them fluttered to the floor, Aden snatched them up with an impatient hand.
“Um, so does that mean you do fleece men?” she asked. It was a ridiculous thing to say, but Aden had a knack for stunning her into stupidity.
Her demented attempt at levity did nothing to lighten his grim visage. She swallowed nervously. Finally, the most pertinent question forced itself to the front of her brain.
“Why?” she asked. “Why would you do this?”
“Let me show you, Vivien.”
He reached across and snatched her up in a hard grip, pulling her across the intimate space and into his lap. All the breath whooshed out of her lungs as she grabbed his shoulders. Her heart tripped over itself, racing to catch up with the excitement and anxiety zinging along her nerves.
Clutching the thick wool fabric of his coat, she gazed up at him. His raven eyes burned with heat, and he showed his white teeth in a smile that looked more like a wolf’s snarl.
“Wha . . . what are you doing?” she stammered.
“I’m answering your question,” he murmured, the dark rumble making her shiver.
Then he moved, tilting her back over his arm as he swooped in to kiss her. His mouth fastened over hers. Not gently, either. He plundered her lips, demanding entrance with a masculine arrogance that swept past her resistance in one skipped heartbeat.
Not that Vivien put up much of a fight. She stiffened momentarily, then collapsed in a swift rush of burgeoning pleasure, whimpering with an odd feeling of relief as his tongue swept boldly into her mouth.
When she softened beneath him, Aden’s touch gentled. Even as he continued to kiss her, feeding the raw heat with sweeps of his tongue, he slipped a hand under her knees and corrected her inelegant sprawl. He brought her legs up, letting her feet rest on the bench as he settled her more comfortably onto his lap. Her bottom nestled into his groin and—
Her eyes flew open and she jerked back, breaking the contact of their lips. She’d felt that hardness before, the night of her rescue when he’d taken her before him on his horse. His, er, manly appendage had been nudging into her then, too. It felt even bigger tonight, and any doubts she’d been harboring about his interest died a quick death.
For several tense seconds they stared at each other. He didn’t relinquish his grip, but nor did he attempt to return to her mouth. Instead, he studied her face, his dark eyes both acutely watchful and smoldering with desire. The combination made her head spin.
As if she were in a trance, her hand drifted up to touch her lips. They felt hot and swollen. His pupils seemed to dilate, flaring as he tracked her movement. Vivien let her hand drop to his chest, sliding her fingers past the lapels of his coat to clutch the fine linen of his cravat. Beneath her fingertips, his heart thrummed in a rapid, steady beat, his life and heat flowing into her hand.
“Yes, well, I think I understand your explanation,” she whispered. “But I might need further clarification.”
He groaned, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Christ, woman, you drive me mad.”
His arm tightened around her shoulders, snuggling her more closely against his broad chest. He felt so wonderful—so hot and so strong—that she couldn’t help wriggling a bit with delight. His erection pressed against her bottom, and her pleasurable little ache of desire made her squirm even more.
Aden hissed out a breath and his head came up. A flush crept across his chiseled features and his eyes grew heavy-lidded, seductive, and hungry.
A second later and his mouth took hers again. He thrust past her lips, feeding her with intense, devouring kisses. Vivien could do nothing but surrender, opening herself in a way she’d never done before. Not for any man.
Shaking with longing, she struggled deeper into his embrace as she pressed upward into the kiss. She wanted everything from him, even though she hardly understood what everything was. But when Aden’s other hand slipped under the hem of her skirts, trailing u
p her stocking-clad leg, she moaned and wrapped an arm around his neck. She wanted all of him, and even though it felt like he was kissing her with his entire body, it wasn’t enough. When his long fingers, their calloused tips sending delicious shivers across her skin, trailed up past the tops of her garters, her body seemed to melt. Almost unconsciously she parted her thighs, silently urging him to take whatever he wanted.
The carriage clattered to a halt, jerking them both. Aden’s hand froze on her thigh and he broke the kiss. With a muttered oath he hauled himself up, bringing her with him.
Vivien’s head swam as she came upright. She clutched at him, struggling to gather her scattered wits. Aden continued to mutter imprecations under his breath even as he hurriedly pulled down her skirts and straightened her clothing.
“What’s wrong?” she asked in a breathless voice. “You look angry.”
He lifted her from his lap like a sack of feathers and deposited her on the other bench. Vivien stared at him, blinking at the sudden change in his demeanor. Only moments ago she could have sworn he’d been as swept away by passion as she. But now he vibrated with tension, and almost looked . . . flustered?
Aden St. George, flustered? Impossible.
“What’s wrong?” he repeated her words with a fierce glower. “Bloody hell, Vivien. Another minute and you would have been half naked, with my hands all over you. Are you completely lacking in any sense of self-protection?”
Scowling, Vivien snatched her hat from the floor of the carriage—it must have fallen when he grabbed her—and jammed it back on her head. Cursing under her breath, she struggled to untangle the layers of netting twisted around the hat’s brim. After tonight’s escapade, she would never wear a veil again.
“There’s no need to be rude about it,” she snapped. “Up until a few moments ago you seemed quite enthusiastic yourself.”
Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard Page 22