Geek Girl and the Scandalous Earl

by Gina Lamm

  The knot in her throat nearly cut off her air. “I appreciate that, I really do, but remember what you agreed to? How can I ever figure out if I fit in here if you have to hide me from everybody you know?” He was gorgeous, he was proud, and he would be hers if they could figure this shit out.

  “It is only temporary, dearling. Once this scandal blows over, they will come to love you as I do.”

  He leaned forward, taking her lips in a gentle kiss. His mouth tasted of brandy, much sweeter than it had been in the glass. The kiss went to her head in an instant, and she was lost. He pulled her close, pressing his chest against her breasts. She clutched at his shoulders as his tongue plundered her.

  Too soon, he lifted his head.

  “We will plan for your departure on the morrow. Until then, we must not miss dinner a second time in a row or Jean Philippe will leave us. Permit me to escort you, Miss Marten.”

  She was glad to have Mike’s arm to hold on to as he led her into the dining room. He steadied her, but even his touch couldn’t completely calm her fears.

  ***

  After a delicious dinner, they went into the music room. Mike sat beside Jamie on the piano bench.

  “Play for me,” he said, smiling as he kissed the tips of her fingers.

  “What do you want to hear?” Her voice shook a little. She had only had a little wine with dinner, but the feel of his nearness was way more intoxicating than alcohol could ever hope to be.

  “Something you have written. I want to hear your talent.”

  She scratched her nails against the ivory keys nervously. “Okay.”

  What to play? She’d been writing music since she was a tiny girl. It took her hours to get through piano practice because she’d never play what the teacher had assigned; she always wanted to make up her own stuff. There were more compositions floating through her head than she could remember.

  When she thought of the perfect song, she smiled.

  “This one is for Mike.”

  The song started with soft, tinkly high notes that she had to lean across him to play. She took advantage of the contact, letting her breast brush against his arm. As she came down the scale, the minor key twisting a poignant knife in her heart, she let her eyes slide closed and pictured Mike as the music poured from deep within her.

  The first time she’d seen him, with that haughty look on his face. The way he smiled at the phone while playing that game. The breadth of his strong shoulders framed by his perfectly tailored clothes. The way he laughed at Baron’s antics. The tenderness in his eyes when he’d entered her body. The crescendo ripped through her fingers like ocean waves crashing. This was her man. This was her earl. And she had to be with him, no matter what sort of problems they’d face along the way.

  The song ended with a repeat of the high notes. Mike closed the tiny gap between their bodies, pressing kisses to her neck as she struck the last keys.

  “That was beautiful,” he whispered against her skin. He lifted the curls from her ear, nibbling on the soft shell. Tremors rippled through her at the contact.

  He turned her body so he was sitting behind her, straddling the piano bench. His hands came around to cup her breasts as he kissed his way down her neck, to the shoulder that was left bare by the wide-necked dress.

  Her nipples tightened to a near-aching state as he fondled them, rolling the tight buds through the silk of her dress. She pressed her ass back against him, reveling in the feeling of his erection pulsing against her.

  He released her breasts, leaning down to feel his way beneath the hem of her skirt. His hand was hot on her leg through the silk stockings.

  “Mike,” she whispered, “I’m wearing an awful lot of clothes to be doing this, you know.”

  “Shame, that,” he whispered back. “I can assist, if you would like…”

  She shook her head, standing quickly. “Everyone already knows we were together last night, and I’d like to kind of keep things quiet right now, if you know what I mean. I don’t want everyone thinking that you’re a debaucher, and I’m a loose woman.”

  He sighed, and she almost caved at the sight of the pathetically pitiful set to his mouth. Baron had nothing on Mike when he was disappointed.

  “If you insist.”

  She pecked a quick kiss on his lips. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll change and meet you in your room.”

  Muriel was all agog over the letter from Sir Frederick. The discussion cooled Jamie’s blood, and by the time she was dressed in her nightgown and Muriel had gone, she wasn’t sure if she should go to Mike. Yes, she wanted him, and he wanted her, but with the way Collette was spreading her tales, should she be more careful?

  Jamie sighed, pulled on her robe, and padded down the hall to Mike’s room. This was his world, so she’d have to let him make that decision. He’d promised not to let anyone harm her. She trusted him enough to let him take care of her.

  Her knock on the door was answered nearly instantly. Mike pulled her straight into his arms, kissing her madly. All her worries burned up in the heat of his passion. It was a huge relief to let herself go, to enjoy the feel of his body against hers.

  His hands were everywhere, her back, her breasts, her ass. He seemed as desperate to forget their troubles as she was. She wrapped her arms around his neck to stay upright.

  He scooped an arm behind her knees, picked her up, and deposited her softly on the bed. He ran his hands beneath her gown, up her thighs, and she shuddered.

  “Take off your robe.” He grasped her foot, kissing her ankle, then her calf. She unknotted the robe, pulling her arms through the sleeves.

  Mike pushed the nightgown up to her waist, baring her body to his gaze. His eyes went dark with lust when he looked at her nude body.

  “Open for me,” he whispered, hands rubbing her thighs.

  She bit her lip and parted her knees slowly. He sucked a breath in through his teeth. “God, Jamie, you are so lovely.”

  He started to reach forward, to touch her, but she stopped him. “Wait. Take your robe off.”

  His hands went obediently to the knot at his waist, but he stopped. “I am unclothed underneath. If I am to remove my robe, you must remove your gown.”

  She quirked a smile at him. “Tit for tat. I like that. Fine. On the count of three. One, two, three.” She pulled the nightgown over her head and tossed it aside.

  Mike still stood with his hands poised on the knot of his robe.

  “You shit!” Jamie laughed. “You were supposed to do it at the same time!”

  “I lied,” he sighed without budging his gaze from her now-naked breasts.

  She grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and covered herself with it. “Okay, now your turn. You can’t see anything else until I see what I came in here for.”

  He laughed, a sound that warmed her all over. God, she loved to make him laugh.

  “If you insist, Miss Marten.”

  He went agonizingly slowly, unraveling the knot one long tail at a time. He used one hand to keep the front of the robe closed. She didn’t want to spoil his striptease by pointing out that she could plainly see his erection standing proud beneath the velvet. It would have spoiled the entertainment. And as he turned, dropping the robe to the floor, she was glad she hadn’t said anything.

  “Wow.”

  She reached out, unable to stop herself from rubbing her hands down his back, to his slim hips, over his ass, and down those finely muscled legs. He was built, her Mike, that was for sure.

  He laughed and turned back to her. From her vantage point on the bed, she was face to head with a very interesting portion of his anatomy.

  “Hello,” she said, addressing his member. “We’ve met before, but I don’t know that we’ve been properly introduced.” She pointed at her chest. “I am Jamie”—she touched the rounded tip—“and you are delicious.”

  Mike’s chuckles disappeared when she took him in her mouth.

  She gripped the base of his shaft with one hand and ran
her mouth up and down his length. His ragged breath and gentle moan encouraged her to continue.

  “Jamie,” he said hoarsely. “You do not have to…”

  She pulled her mouth from him long enough to speak. “Mike? Shut up. Enjoying myself here.”

  She wrapped her lips around him again, closed her eyes, and savored the feel of him in her mouth.

  Only a minute later, he pulled away from her. Her “what’s wrong?” was cut off by him pushing her back onto the bed.

  “I want to taste you in return, Jamie.” Mike crawled up between her spread legs. Her already throbbing core grew even hotter as his breath blew against the damp folds. “May I?”

  She nodded.

  His tongue in her mouth had been magic. His tongue on her breasts had been incredible. But when he pressed that same tongue against that tiny nub that screamed out for him she thought she’d lose her ever-lovin’ mind.

  “Mike,” she gasped, hands tangling in his dark hair. “Oh God, don’t stop.”

  He licked his way from top to bottom, suckling her, nipping gently, caressing her with his mouth. If she’d been wearing her stays, she would definitely have passed out because all available blood in her body was rushing downstairs to greet him.

  She couldn’t take it. If he stayed there much longer, she’d never last.

  She pulled at his shoulders, and he lifted his head.

  “I want you inside me.” She held her arms out to him.

  He rose on his arms, positioning his body above hers. He probed at the entrance to her body. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she said, rubbing her hands along his back. “Please, Mike.”

  He slid into her gently, his hardness filling her, stretching her inner walls. She moaned, lifting her hips to meet his.

  His hips snaked against hers, a sensuous rhythm that stole her consciousness, burning it away in a haze of passion. The motion rubbed against her most sensitive areas, heightening her pleasure immeasurably.

  She cried out as he quickened his pace. “Oh God, please don’t stop.”

  His movements were frantic against her as his body plundered hers. She met each of his thrusts, bringing him deeper, farther into her body. With one hand, he cupped her breast, and with the other, he gripped her ass. Her hands clenched his hips, desperately trying to bring him farther into her.

  When sweat covered their bodies and his erection pulsed hot and hard into her, she screamed with pleasure, hiding her face in his shoulder to cover the sound. Hot jets of passion flowed onto her stomach as he pulled out at the last second. She was momentarily disappointed to be robbed of the delicious feeling, but only for a second. It had been the smart thing to do, after all.

  Mike pressed soft kisses against her cheek, her brow, her lips, and then rose to clean her up again. He was so gentle, his hands moving smoothly as he cared for her. She relaxed and enjoyed feeling like a princess.

  “Thank you,” she whispered when he crawled back into bed next to her.

  “For what?” he whispered back, pulling her into his arms.

  “For being you.”

  He dropped a kiss on her nose and they both went to sleep.

  Despite the beautiful feeling of sleeping in his arms, tension and worry overtook her. She had dark dreams that night.

  Twenty-Four

  A raucous horde of ladies and gentlemen, headed by Miss Lyons, chased Jamie through the pitch darkness of the Wentworths’ garden. Their angry cries ripped through her heart like jagged arrows. Her slippers were made for dancing, not running through the woods. She couldn’t outrun them for long.

  She yelled Mike’s name as she ran, begging him for help, but he didn’t answer. There wasn’t a friendly face anywhere that she could see. Bushes and brambles tore at her beautiful gown, slowing her even further. She chanced a look over her shoulder. They were gaining on her, Miss Lyons’s eyes glowing red like a demon’s.

  Jamie’s breath came in burning gasps as she rounded a huge oak. She stopped short. A huge stone wall extended for miles in either direction. She jumped, digging her nails into the smooth stone. The ledges weren’t large enough to give her purchase. She couldn’t climb it in jeans, much less this frilly gown. She whirled, pressing her back against the cold stone barrier. She watched, helpless, as they came for her.

  As they ran closer, shrieking in evil joy, they began to disappear, one by one. By the time the red-eyed Felicity was within ten feet of Jamie, she was the only pursuer left. Felicity stopped her headlong sprint, smiled with her too-thin lips, and sauntered to Jamie, walking hips first, like a slutty supermodel.

  “Leave me alone,” Jamie yelled, cold tears tracking down her cheeks. She tried to leap at Felicity, to attack her, but her body was frozen with fear. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

  “Oh, but you did,” Felicity purred, her golden curls turning the jet-black of an oil slick. Her figure became fuller, her lips grew into a sensual pout, and then Collette Dubois was cupping Jamie’s chin, eyes still burning like hellfire.

  Collette put her head against Jamie’s cheek, and whispered, soft as a kiss, “You took what’s mine. Now you will pay.”

  Jamie woke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in Mike’s bed. He grunted softly in his sleep but didn’t wake fully. Weak fingers of dawn poked through the glass of the window. A shiver that had nothing to do with her nudity raced down her spine. I’d better get back to my room.

  Swiftly and silently, she dressed. With a last longing look at Mike, she shut the door softly behind her.

  ***

  The quiet knock on his bedchamber door barely roused Micah. He imagined that he dreamt it and reached to his side to touch Jamie. She wasn’t there. A second knock, louder than the first, pried his eyes open.

  “Enter,” he called, pulling the sheet up to his naked chest.

  “My lord,” George, the footman, said from the crack in the door. “A messenger has come from His Grace, the Duke of Wellington.”

  “The Duke of Wellington,” Micah said disbelievingly. “At this hour?”

  “His Grace has requested your presence this morning, at nine of the clock. What shall I say to the messenger?”

  Micah rubbed a hand through his hair, curling his lip in confusion. “Of course, I will attend His Grace promptly.”

  “Yes, my lord.” George dipped his head and shut the door softly.

  So much for a leisurely morning spent planning for Jamie’s departure to the country. They would need to postpone her journey until the morrow at the earliest. The Iron Duke, so famous for routing the Corsican upstart Napoleon, was not the sort of person one could ignore.

  As Micah hastily went through his daily ablutions, he found it hard to keep his mind on business matters. Glimpses of Jamie kept flitting through his mind. It was enough to drive a man daft, and Micah quelled the small smile that was pasted on his lips at the thought of his intended bride. Remembering the threats that hung over them both did much to temper his pleasure.

  The door to his bedchamber swung softly shut behind him as he descended to break his fast, determined to keep his brain fresh on business matters this morn. He’d attend to His Grace and then make arrangements to send his love to the country. The pleasure, and there would be much, would come later.

  ***

  Jamie beat Muriel to the Lemon Room by a good half hour. Jamie had just drifted into an exhausted sleep when the thin maid woke her. She held a steaming cup of chocolate.

  “Morning, miss,” she trilled, setting the cup on the bedside table. “Isn’t it a lovely day?”

  Jamie stretched as she sat up and yawned. Leaning forward on the bed, she looked out the window. Overcast. “Yup. Gorgeous.”

  “You must hurry if you wish to see his lordship this morning.” Muriel scooted over to the wardrobe, pulling out a pale-yellow gown. “I heard Mr. Thornton say that the earl must meet with the Duke of Wellington at nine of the clock.”

  So much for a day with my guy, she thought as she threw back the cov
ers. Not even time for a bath. Just great. Mike better not send her off to his country house without spending some time talking to her about it first. She needed to know that this wasn’t a life sentence before she agreed to it.

  A quick scrub in the basin later, she was dressed and on her way to meet her earl for breakfast. She hadn’t taken that long to get ready, but Mike was pulling on his gloves at the door while Thornton held his greatcoat.

  “Hey,” Jamie said as she walked down the last few steps into the foyer. “Are you leaving?”

  “My apologies, Miss Marten,” Mike said, his frown wrinkling his forehead. “I have been called away by His Grace.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She ran her fingernail across the banister as she looked at Mike, consternation furrowing her brow.

  “I shall be back for dinner. We can discuss your journey to my country house then. I apologize for the delay, but I mustn’t keep His Grace waiting.”

  Jamie wanted to give him a good-bye kiss or hug him or even squeeze his gloved hand briefly. She was feeling so weird after those creepy dreams. But none of that was allowed. Mrs. K said that even married couples didn’t touch each other in the presence of other people. So, instead, she gripped the banister hard, and said, “Be safe.”

  She bit her lip as he put on his hat.

  “Until this evening, Miss Marten.” He held a hand out to her. She took it, and he pressed his lips to her knuckles so softly.

  “Bye.” She didn’t let her voice tremble.

  He walked out the door into the now-drizzly morning.

  ***

  Breakfast with Baron was lonely. Jamie let the dog have most of her ham and half of her eggs too. She wasn’t hungry. She was bored. She had no friends, other than Muriel and Mrs. K, who were both busy with their daily duties. She tried to beg Thornton to play cards with her, but the old butler was scandalized by the thought. George went mute when she tried to talk to him, only answering in nods and shakes of his head. One of the other maids shooed her out of the music room for its weekly cleaning session.