She wanted to touch him, to tell him he was better than what he’d been raised to believe. “Your father should have been proud of what you had accomplished.”
Ian gave a hoarse laugh. “Proud? He hated me.”
“He sounded like a pitiful man.”
“Pitiful?” Ian said. “I never thought of him as such. He was a strict disciplinarian. A hard man who had little affection for his offspring.”
Her thoughts turned and something clicked in her mind. “One of the charities I saw in the ledgers was for an asylum. I didn’t understand your reasons for supporting such a place until now. You thought of Madeline, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “She was the daughter of an aristocrat and as such would never end up in one of those filthy institutions. Others are not as fortunate.”
“I’m beginning to understand you.”
“I don’t understand myself.”
“Our past is what shapes us. Your past made you the man you are today. You aren’t as cold or as unfeeling as you want others to believe.”
He looked at her incredulously. “I’m not sure whether I consider that a compliment or an insult. At my club, I prefer to be viewed as cunning and cutthroat.”
“Your ledgers tell another story entirely.”
“Thankfully, only you can read them,” he said gruffly.
She came close and touched his cheek. “We have more in common than I’d believed.”
His hand covered hers and held her there. “Such as?”
“Both of our fathers have failed us. Their failure was in different ways, but I fear the result is similar. We were left to fend for ourselves. You fought for money. I kept the books to pay the creditors.”
Her body responded to his physical appeal, but her mind reacted to the man. A large part of her admired him for not just surviving by using his fists, but more so for his grit and determination to invest his earnings and start a business. A very successful business.
Even if the enterprise was one she despised.
He could have spent every shilling he’d won in the ring on drink, women, and gaming, but he had not. He’d worked and invested.
“You need never worry about money again,” he said.
Her heart ached in her chest. “I know, and for that I am grateful.” She touched his lips with her forefinger, and he gently nipped the tip and swirled his tongue around it.
She gasped at the sensations and the undeniable spark of desire in Ian’s eyes. Then his gaze lowered to her mouth, and she recalled the pleasure of being held against his body, of his lips caressing hers. Her breath quickened, and she feared that with one encouraging word from his lips, she would sink to her knees and ask him to join her on the soft carpet.
“Grace, no one can see us through the window.”
“What?”
“We can see out, but the bright candlelight of the chandeliers prevents anyone from seeing inside this room.”
She finally understood his intent and her pulse lurched. Her treacherous body reacted strongly to his virile pull, and she knew that she wanted him again. Here. Now. Even above the sinful vices going on below that had led to the destruction of her remaining parent and her family. Perhaps she could exorcise this obsession and then think with a clear heart and a conscience.
“You swore to keep me from your bed,” he said.
“I did.”
“There wasn’t a bed in the library, and there isn’t one here, either.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t step back. “You’re right.” She knew exactly what he wanted. She wanted it, too. “There is no bed here.”
Primal satisfaction glinted in his gaze. His lids lowered, and she waited for him to pull her close, to hungrily cover her mouth with his.
…
Ian craved her with a fierce hunger. “I’ve wanted to take you in this room the first time I saw you,” he said hoarsely.
She looked at him in surprise. “You did?”
“Oh, yes. I never bring women upstairs, but there was something about you. You didn’t belong here. You were innocence and temptation at once, and I was drawn to you like no other.”
“I was afraid of you,” she said.
His large hand took her face and held it gently. “And now?”
Her blue eyes met his with shimmering honesty. “No longer.”
He lowered his head, and she stood on tiptoe and met his mouth. He kissed her thoroughly, and she met him with equal abandon. Soon he wanted more. He wanted everything. His lips blazed a path down her throat to the tops of her breasts.
“I need to see you. To touch you.”
“Yes.”
It was all the encouragement he needed. She turned, and he made quick work of the buttons on her gown, then her stays, until the dress was loose and the silk slipped to the floor. Wearing only her shift, she turned to face him. Desire burned in her eyes.
She was lovely. Utterly lovely.
And his.
He stared at her, his breathing labored. Then she reached for the dainty bow at the neckline of her shift. He watched, his mouth dry as she untied the pretty ribbon and the shift, too, slid to the carpet. She stood before him bare except for her white stockings and garters.
Blood pumped hot and heavy in his veins. “You are perfect.”
His hands rose to his cravat, but she stopped him. “Let me.” She stepped close and reached for his cravat and began to slip it from its knot. It was erotic torture.
She soon divested him of his coat and waistcoat. His skin was tight with need by the time she’d stripped him of his shirt. Her fingers brushed against his chest. When at long last, she reached for the flap of his trousers, and began to work the buttons, he wanted to push her hands away and make quick work of the task. She sensed his impatience and gave him a warning look.
“Hold still,” she said.
Finally, his cock sprang free. He tugged off his own boots and discarded his trousers. They stood staring at each other for a heartbeat, breathing hard, then he reached for her, swept her off her feet, and laid her on the thick carpet beneath the window. Light from the chandeliers of the gaming floor reflected off her curves and hollows. He’d stood staring out the window countless times but never had he seen such a magnificent sight. She was like a goddess offered to him.
His goddess.
And he would feast like he’d desired from the moment he’d seen her.
He kissed her breasts, and she sighed and arched toward him. He marveled at her sweet response, urging him on. He lifted her leg and peeled down her stocking and garter and then moved to the other.
His lips trailed a path down her stomach and paused to press a kiss to her navel, then lower still, to the top of the soft curls between her legs.
She must have sensed his intent because she rose on her elbows, her dark hair cascading down her back. “Ian?”
“Shh, love. Let me love you the way I’ve longed to.”
He blew on the curls, teasing them with his hot breath, before parting her slowly. The sight of her glistening for him heightened his need. He lowered his head, licking her once.
“God, the taste of you.”
She moaned and the sound heightened his already fierce craving. He was harder than he’d ever been, driven to give her pleasure. She arched toward him, urging him on. He hooked her leg around his shoulder and grazed a finger down her wet slit. She cried out.
“Let me.” He parted her and swirled his tongue over the straining bud. She grasped his hair and tossed her head from side to side. He was enthralled at the way she writhed beneath him. Then he gave a leisurely lick, and she cried out as she reached her climax.
Her eyes opened, a vivid blue, and she sighed. “Ian.”
He’d never been more aroused in his life. He needed to be inside her, deeply embedded, until they were one. She opened her arms, and he moved between her legs and drove into her welcoming heat with one powerful thrust.
Her slickness encased him, held him tightly. He
began to move and she joined him, meeting his wild thrusts with an urgency that drove him on, heightening his pleasure even further.
“Come for me,” he said.
She screamed his name with her release. Her tight sheath gripped him, and with one last thrust, he exploded and came deep and fast within her.
She went boneless against him, her heart pounding against his. His own breathing was harsh, and he turned to the side and held her tightly against him.
His heart rate slowed. He tenderly kissed her forehead, her lips. “Are you all right?” His need had been fierce, and he hadn’t been gentle when he took her.
She reached out to caress his cheek. “That was miraculous.”
It was.
He picked up a long lock of dark hair that rested across his arm and caressed it between his fingers. An unwanted emotion tightened in his chest. She had great power over him. He’d thought to bring her here would banish her fears and insecurities about the club. Instead, he’d ending up binding himself to her, ruining him for other pleasure.
He frowned. He’d made a decision to keep the Raven Club after he’d married. He believed he could maintain his lifestyle and insisted a wife would not change his ways. Now, he felt like he was losing control.
Ian had always thought of himself as brutal and cutthroat when he’d wanted something. And he wanted his club and her.
Things used to be easy for him. He used to be detached from others, but now Grace was threatening to tear down his barriers. He needed to maintain his resolve and the fierce discipline that had driven him for over a decade. There was only one way he could keep his sanity and the Raven Club without losing Grace.
…
It was earth-shattering. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe it would be like this between them. Ian had made love to her tenderly and passionately, and the invisible web between them had grown stronger.
“Was it as you imagined it here?” Ian asked.
Grace touched his cheek. “The club or this room?”
“Both.”
She hesitated for a moment before answering. “No. They were both different.”
They had been. She hadn’t felt the bone-seated disgust or dislike of the casino floor when she’d been escorted on Ian’s arm. Neither did she feel the desperation or anger when he’d brought her to this room. She’d experienced other emotions entirely—excitement that he’d actually applied her recommendations, then desire and ecstasy in his arms. But now that her body had cooled, she began to wonder just what she wanted of him. A nagging guilt centered in her chest.
“I realize I have yet to take you in a bed, but I want to,” he said.
She understood. He wanted her forgiveness and acceptance. He wanted her to accept him as her husband. The earl who owned a gambling club.
Could she do it?
Did she have a choice?
“Ian, I’m grateful you shared your past with me. I’m even thankful that you showed me the Raven Club.”
She read the question in his eyes. Could she accept him?
The question hovered in the air between them but remained unanswered. She was afraid to bring up the topic and ruin the moment. He didn’t mention it. It seemed that the fate of the Raven Club would have to be addressed at another time. Another day.
Maybe she could look past all that she’d believed and lived…every miserable experience with her father…to be with Ian. She acknowledged he did good with the club’s profits, and the donations could be used to better the lives of children in need.
Yes, maybe the good outweighed the wretched sins.
He reached for her. “Let us go home.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“We know our brother can be difficult,” Ellie said, tucking an errant red curl behind her ear.
“It’s true,” Olivia said.
Grace sat in the parlor with Ian’s two sisters. A maid had brought in a tea tray, and the girls were nibbling tea cakes. Ian’s sisters looked lovely in pale pink and yellow muslin morning dresses. Ellie’s red hair was styled in loose curls, and Olivia’s golden hair was in a braided coronet.
It had been two weeks since Ian had taken her to the Raven Club—two weeks since they’d make love beneath the window overlooking the casino floor. Since then, they’d fallen into a routine. Ian was busy during the day and would leave each evening for the club, and Grace wouldn’t question his whereabouts. He’d return after midnight, slip into bed, and make passionate love to her. He was attentive and gentle in bed but unapproachable and distant in the day. It was maddening.
It was a routine, but an uncomfortable one. They never discussed his plans for the Raven Club, and she hadn’t visited the place since he’d invited her there in an effort to show her what the club meant to him. Her heart and mind were in tumult. She’d loved him, but he’d never told her he loved her.
She feared that Ian Swift loved only his club.
She’d grown terribly lonely in the big house. Grace had explored each room, the music conservatory, the ballroom with its chinoiserie décor, and she’d read a dozen books in the library. Mrs. Smithson was kind, as were all the servants, but they kept their distance from the new mistress. The servants had a repertoire that seemed odd to Grace, but it had been so long since she’d lived in a house with a full staff that she didn’t question it. With not much to do—her work for the widowed milliner had ceased upon her marriage—she was lonely and happy to visit Ian’s sisters.
“Ian is difficult, but we have seen changes in him since he met you,” Olivia said, drawing Grace’s attention back to the girls seated across from her.
Grace raised her teacup and took a sip of the oolong brew. “Oh?”
“He’s happier. He hasn’t taken us to Gunter’s since we were in leading strings,” Olivia said.
“Not that long.” Ellie frowned at her young sister.
“It certainly felt like it,” Olivia said.
Ellie set down her teacup. “Our point is that he smiles more, jests with us, is easy to talk to. It’s due to you.”
Grace felt uncomfortable beneath the girls’ hopeful expressions, and she smoothed the skirt of her blue silk walking dress. Ian rarely talked to her. Brooks would show up on the doorstep for Ian in the afternoon, and they’d discuss business in the study for hours. If she came across Ian in the vestibule or outside a room, he’d politely inquire about her day, then go on with his business. He’d leave in the evening for the club, but when he slipped into her bed at night, he became a different man. His kisses were gentle and passionate and took her breath away.
When she writhed beneath him, eager to touch his skin, he’d groan his pleasure and let her know how much he liked her boldness. Afterward, when they were breathless and spent, he would tuck her curves neatly into his own until she fell asleep in his arms, tenderly protected like a cherished wife. But the dreaded sunrise would arrive, and he’d again leave her alone in the house. The difference between Ian in the day and Ian at night was driving her crazed.
“I’m not sure Ian’s easygoing demeanor is due to me. We have our differences,” Grace said.
“She must be talking about the place,” Olivia said to Ellie.
“What place?” The hair rose on Grace’s nape.
Ellie looked at her with a grave expression. “There’s something else you need to know about our brother.”
Grace tried not to laugh. “You mean the Raven Club?”
“You know about it?” Ellie asked.
Grace nodded. “I do. He escorted me there once.”
Olivia’s green eyes shone with excitement, and she set her teacup down with a chink. “He did? What was it like?”
Exciting. Thrilling. Sinfully tempting—just like its owner. It could also be a doom for some. She could never describe it as such to Ian’s sisters. Grace cleared her throat. “It’s interesting. Unlike any other place I’ve ever been.”
“We told Ian we know about it, but we also know he intended to keep it a secret from us.
He’s wrong. I want to go,” Ellie said.
Grace shook her head. “It’s not a place for proper ladies.”
“You went,” Ellie said.
“Ian escorted me as his wife.”
A determined expression crossed Ellie’s face. “Well, he can escort me as his sister.”
She had a point. And a right. If Ian was going to insist on keeping his casino, then his sisters did have a right to see it. Ian believed there were no consequences to his family if he kept the title and the club. He needed to learn differently, and he was clearly mistaken if he thought he could keep it from his sisters.
“Why do you insist on seeing it?” Grace asked.
“It offers a lady freedom.” Ellie’s face beamed with eagerness, then turned into a frown. “All this talk about my debut. What I have to wear. To whom I can speak. What dances I can dance. With whom I must partner. Who is a proper suitor, and whom should I avoid? It’s all so constraining. It’s like we live only to obtain a husband and then our lives are over.”
“She just married.” Olivia pointed out Grace’s state like it was an illness she didn’t want to contract.
“I’m sorry.” Ellie’s smooth brow furrowed. “I didn’t mean to suggest your life was over. I’m merely suggesting that a lady needs to have a bit of fun, even after she is married. Gentlemen are permitted to attend their clubs after matrimony and no one says a word. Why not women? If they are discrete, what is the harm? Especially when my own brother owns one of the most exciting establishments in all of London.”
Yes, he did. And if Grace protested, he’d send her packing to the country. Was that still his plan? He’d never mentioned it since she’d overheard the rude remark on her wedding day. Had things changed between them now that they were sharing a bed? Perhaps in his mind they had.
Or perhaps she was reading more into their fragile relationship.
A dull ache of foreboding settled in her gut.
Was it settled then? Had Ian won? Had he achieved everything he’d wanted?
He’d kept the club and slept with his wife each night.
Had she so easily sacrificed her principles regarding the evils of gambling? Had her heart overruled her head?
How to Tempt an Earl_Raven Club Page 18