“Quite right,” she muttered.
“With this weather, it will be nightfall before we reach London, and that’s if we don’t get stuck in the mud on the way there. I for one would like to avoid having to get out and push the carriage.”
“I didn’t argue,” Katherine said.
“No, but you looked as if you disapproved.”
Crossing her arms, she stared back at him. It was impossible to stop from smiling when he was scowling at her as if she’d just denied him his favorite treat. Recalling his advances, she acknowledged that indeed, she probably had. Her cheeks heated with the realization. “I do not disapprove of being cautious,” she told him, “but in light of what has recently transpired within this carriage I must admit I think it remarkably coincidental that we should find ourselves trapped together at an inn during a rainstorm. Sounds like something out of a novel, if you ask me.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Are you suggesting that I have some control over the weather? That this is all part of my secret plan to seduce you?”
She laughed, hoping to make light of his suggestion. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t you?” A smile touched his lips. “As far as I recall, you’ve always been more daring than most ladies ought to be, balancing on fallen-down tree trunks and leaping over rivers.” Leaning forward, he raised his finger to her lips and gently swept it across the sensitive flesh. “The rain is a coincidence, as you say. Still, I am glad for it, for I can think of no better way to spend the evening than by continuing to convince you to submit to your wishes.”
“My wishes?” she croaked. “You have no—”
“You betray yourself, Kate, for your eyes, the blush upon your skin, the occasional hitch in your breath all speak of a longing that you are determined to deny. Don’t worry though.” His eyes were bright with excitement. “I have every intention of kissing you again before the night is over.”
The carriage rolled to a stop and Lucien stepped out, his hands reaching for her so he could help her alight. Her thoughts hadn’t moved past his last statement, but somehow she managed to rise from her seat and reach out, ready to accept his hand. He caught her by the waist instead and swung her into his arms, the rain heavy upon them as he strode through puddles in order to reach the front door. Pushing it open, he set her down carefully and followed her inside, leaving the coachman to see to the horses and their luggage.
“Thank you,” Katherine said. She’d still managed to get wet, even though he’d carried her, but at least her slippers had avoided the mud.
“You’re very welcome,” he said, not looking at her. His attention, it seemed, was on the man coming toward them. “Good evening, sir. Are you the innkeeper?”
“I am,” the man said with a curt nod. He was an old and weather-beaten sort, who walked slightly hunched over and with a bit of a limp. “I trust you’ll be needing a room for the night?”
“Indeed. It’s coming down heavily out there. Thought it best not to risk the horses or the carriage.”
“Quite right,” the innkeeper said as he grabbed a key from a hook on the wall. “If you’ll please follow me.”
“Forgive me,” Katherine said, halting both men on their way toward the stairs, “but is it possible for us to have two rooms? We’re not married, you see.”
“Oh, I say! Indeed it is. You must forgive me. When I saw you come in together, I just assumed that you were,” the innkeeper said, returning for another key.
Shaking his head, Lucien grabbed Katherine by the elbow and leaned toward her, his lips brushing the edge of her ear. “You just had to ruin things, didn’t you?”
Turning her head, Katherine saw that his features were completely relaxed, his eyes dancing with amusement, while his grin was one of boyish mischievousness. She smiled in return. “But of course,” she said. “A joint room would be far too easy, and besides, everyone knows that most men enjoy a good challenge.”
“Is that an invitation?” he asked, his murmur so soft that nobody else was likely to hear, his tone so enticing she could practically feel it caressing her skin.
Swatting his arm to make light of it all, she chuckled, “By all means, you’re willing to try.” Heavens! Why on earth would she say that? She’d baited him—quite brazenly at that—and without being the least bit certain of how far she was willing to go. But for some inexplicable reason, the words had been a natural response to his—familiar and so very similar to the way in which they always sparred with each other. Except this time, there would be consequences, and she wasn’t the least bit sure if she was prepared to face them.
Apprehension still gnawed, yet there could be no denying the feelings he stirred inside her. Never in her life had she felt so at ease and flustered in a man’s presence. It was most unsettling. And then of course there was the kiss. She’d pushed him away, fearing what it might have led to, but by God if she hadn’t enjoyed every marvelous second of it for as long as it had lasted. He’d promised to kiss her again—this very evening—and the thought brought a flutter to her belly. Perhaps if all they could do was kiss, then that would not be such a bad thing.
Reaching the top of the landing, the innkeeper showed them each to their rooms with the promise that a bath would be brought up for each of them before dinner.
“I’ll see you later then,” Lucien said once the innkeeper was gone. Katherine stood in the doorway to her room, looking back at him, her eyes helplessly seeking his mouth. “Shall we say seven o’clock in the dining room?”
She blinked, then nodded, feeling quite out of sorts and perfectly stupid. If only he wouldn’t have dangled the promise of another kiss before her. “That sounds fine.” With a nod, he started inside his room, his door almost closing when a thought struck her. “What about our luggage? We’ll need dry clothes after the bath.”
“I’m sure my coachman will have someone send it up.” He’d popped his head back out into the hallway. “Don’t worry, Kate—you’ll be warm and dry in no time.”
Oh, she wasn’t worried about that. Not really. What she was worried about was her own sanity and how she’d prevent herself from being reduced to a complete imbecile. How on earth had this happened to her?
Removing her sodden bonnet, she placed it on a table, water pooling beneath it as it dripped. Her pelisse came off next, below which her gown was remarkably dry, save for the hem. Even so, she felt chilled to the bone, most likely from the damp. It would be good to enjoy the warmth of a bath.
Crossing to the window, she stared out at the pouring rain as she waited for the servants to arrive with her tub and water. It looked like the wind had picked up, tugging as it was on treetops and hedges. Lucien had certainly made the right decision stopping here. She glanced toward the far wall, her heartbeat picking up at the thought of him there, just beyond her vision. He’d been wetter than her, or so he had seemed, and she couldn’t resist wondering what he was doing. Was he standing by the window too? And if he was, what was he wearing? Surely he’d taken off his greatcoat by now. But what of his jacket . . . his waistcoat . . . his shirt . . . ?
A knock sounded and Katherine’s heart leapt. Heavens! What inappropriate thoughts she was having lately. “Come in!”
Four maids appeared, two carrying a tub while the others brought pails of steaming water. Behind them followed a young boy of roughly fifteen years, with tousled hair. Setting Katherine’s valise just inside the door, he bowed awkwardly and took his leave. It took no more than five minutes for her bath to be ready, and as soon as she was alone again, she wasted no time in removing the rest of her clothing and slipping into the welcoming heat of the water. Leaning back, she reached for the soap and proceeded to wash herself, then she closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to simply enjoy being soothed.
A thud sounded, and her eyes snapped open. She stared at the wall, certain that it had come from the other side
of it—Lucien’s side. Whatever was he doing? She strained to hear more. Voices could now be heard, accompanied by what sounded like a rush of water. Settling back, Katherine smiled. His bath was being readied. There were footsteps, a few more voices, and then the distinct closing of a door—his door. Silence reigned for what seemed an eternity, and Katherine realized that she was holding her breath. What had the world come to that she should find herself so anxious to know his every movement? It wasn’t reasonable in the least.
There was another thud, this time dimmer than the first. It was followed swiftly by yet another. If Katherine was to make a guess, she’d say he’d just thrown two heavy objects across the room. Books came to mind first, for the sound was not dissimilar to what she imagined a leather-bound novel would produce. No, that made no sense. He was preparing for his bath, after all, which meant he’d likely removed his boots and tossed them aside.
Sucking in a breath, she carefully listened anew. Curled around the edge of the tub, her fingers held on tight, as if she feared she might slip beneath the surface and drown if she dared to let go. Try as she might, she heard nothing else and swiftly admonished herself for prying. What business was it of hers if Lucien was getting undressed and climbing naked into a tub of steaming hot water? She groaned, wondering briefly if her soul was beyond saving. This should not have been happening!
Rising, she reached for a towel, swiftly patted herself dry and stepped out onto the hardwood planking, her feet leaving wet prints behind her as she moved about. This was all his fault, she decided. Annoying man! In the space of four days he’d managed to turn her insides to goo. With no more than a glance in her direction she was ready to throw herself at him, to crawl all over him and make a complete cake of herself in the process, no doubt. It had never been like this between them, yet he’d confessed a desire to kiss her for years. Blast him, but he’d made it impossible for her to think straight with his sudden advances bowling her over with surprise. She was not prepared for it, yet she wanted him to hold her again as he’d done back at Cresthaven . . . to kiss her with abandon as he’d done in the carriage. Lord, it had felt so incredibly good.
Again she cursed, this time more fiercely as she tore open her bag and snatched up a clean gown, even more annoyed when she found herself wondering if Lucien would approve. Damn, he’d made a mess of it all, and she had every intention of telling him so over dinner. And then she’d tell him that this had gone far enough—that they couldn’t possibly go on like this unless he wished for her to drive herself mad. Yes, his advances had to stop . . . but not until he followed through on that promise of his to kiss her. Again.
Her heartbeat quickened, and she allowed her head to fall into her hands. Oh, what was the use of resisting when she wanted to do anything but? Looking over her shoulder, her eyes scanned the back of her thigh, sobering her and strengthening her resolve. She had a very good reason to resist temptation, she reminded herself. And if she was to avoid further heartache, then she’d be wise not to forget it.
Climbing out of his bath, Lucien dried himself off and strode across the room, comfortable with his own nudity and not in the least bit troubled by the arousal that showed. The warm water had done little to cool his desire for Katherine. She’d heated his blood with that sharp-witted tongue of hers, the hint of amusement forever on her lips and the occasional shy glance from beneath her thick black lashes.
When she’d asked about her clothing, he’d been half tempted to tell her not to trouble herself on that score—that he’d just as happily see her dressed in nothing at all—but he’d stopped himself, deciding that saying as much would be taking his advances a step too far. He was a gentleman, after all—surely he could muster a bit more flair.
Still, the thought of her naked curves stretched out in a tub of hot water no more than ten yards away at most had only served to increase the lust he’d felt for her in the carriage. By God, he’d actually kissed her! He wasn’t sure if he ought to regret it, considering how promptly she’d pushed him away, but what he’d told her was true—she’d responded to him, and her doing so had heightened his longing for her like nothing else possibly could have. She wanted him, even if she was too confused, uncertain or scared to admit it. And she was scared—he’d seen it in her eyes.
Donning a crisp white shirt, a fresh pair of breeches and a dry pair of socks, Lucien pulled on the boots he’d tossed across the floor earlier, slipped into a cream-colored waistcoat and put on his navy blue jacket before stepping out into the hallway, where he almost collided with Katherine. “I beg your pardon,” he said, liking the low timbre of his own voice. It sounded both masculine and confident. Confidence was good, even though he secretly felt like a young lad about to ask a girl to dance for the very first time.
“Lucien, I . . .”
She was breathless, and he decided that this could only be a good thing. “Was your bath to your liking?” he asked.
To his surprise, her cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink. She swallowed, looked away and eventually said, “Very much so.” She bit her lip for a moment before saying, “And err . . . how was your bath? Also agreeable, I hope?”
“Oh, indeed it was.” He stared at her until she brought her eyes back to his, then he held them for a beat and smiled, offering her his arm as he did so. “Shall we?”
She appeared momentarily flustered, but then she straightened herself, squared her shoulders and gave him a curt nod. “Certainly. In fact, I’ve been thinking of the best way in which to discourage you.”
“Discourage me from what?” he asked, loving the way in which she ground her teeth and rolled her eyes. She was charming even when she was vexed. Well, he’d clearly put her out of sorts, for which he silently commended himself most highly.
“You know from what, you scoundrel,” she muttered as they approached the stairs. She smiled, dazzling him with her beauty. “But fear not, for I do believe that I can be just as cunning as you. I’ve decided to have onions for supper.”
Lucien barked with laughter. “Well, you really are determined to put me off, aren’t you, Kate?”
“Not especially, but you know how competitive I’ve always been.”
“Then perhaps I ought to kiss you now, before you have your meal.” Grabbing her wrist, he spun her sideways until she was backed up against the wall of the corridor with his hands braced on either side of her. He leaned in, inhaling the sweetness of her scent, and her breath quivered—he both heard and felt it. “Temptress,” he murmured in her ear.
“I . . . I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, but I believe you do, Kate. Indeed, you’ve been subtle in your suggestiveness, but don’t think I haven’t noticed that flirtatious look in your eyes, the occasional touch when no touch was needed or that slight display of your ankles yesterday.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
He leaned back. “I think you know. Granted, it took a while before I was sure, but I daresay it’s quite clear that you’re hoping to seduce me, though I’ve yet to determine if this is a deliberate effort on your part or merely a reaction to my irresistible charm.”
Her eyes were wider than he’d ever seen them before. “Why . . . you . . . ugh!” Giving him a push, she moved past him and started down the stairs.
He hurried after her. “Truth be told, I have to say I rather like the idea.”
“Whatever is happening between us,” she said, “whatever might yet happen . . . kisses are one thing. What concerns me is what they may lead to.”
So she was worried about the lovemaking, even as her body practically begged for it? Hopefully he would soon be able to ease her concerns on that score. They arrived in the foyer, and he offered her his arm.
“Kate,” he said as he led her through to the dining room and across to a corner where a table had been prepared for two. “There is so much pleasure to be had if you’ll only allow me t
o show you.”
“I won’t be your mistress,” she told him bluntly.
“I wasn’t suggesting you would,” he whispered as he pulled out a chair for her. She seated herself, and he lowered his lips to her ear. “Marriage, on the other hand . . . any chance you’ve changed your position on that?”
She looked at him then, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly while her fingers toyed with the napkin that lay beside her knife. “Lucien . . . ,” she began, “are you—”
“Would ye care for some wine?” a waitress asked, materializing at the side of the table.
Katherine bit her lip and Lucien clenched his jaw. Of all the damnable moments to be interrupted. He wanted to know what Katherine was going to say, blast it all! “Certainly,” Lucien replied.
“I’ll bring a decanter, then. As for your meal, we’ve roast chicken with potatoes and herbs or mutton stew with some bread on the side.”
“I’ll have the chicken,” Katherine said, and Lucien seconded that choice.
As soon as the waitress was gone, he leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. “You were saying?”
Katherine scrunched her mouth, as if she regretted what she’d been about to ask him. She probably hoped that the waitress’s arrival would have made him forget that she hadn’t finished her sentence. He wouldn’t allow her to withdraw her question, though, and continued gazing at her until she eventually pushed out a deep breath. “I was merely wondering if . . . if you’re attempting to court me.”
“Whatever gave you that idea? Surely not my mention of marriage?” His lips quivered, but he couldn’t laugh. Not now.
“Please don’t mock me,” she said, the vulnerability in her voice going straight to his heart. “I couldn’t bear it—not from you.”
The pain he’d caught in her eyes earlier had returned, filling Lucien with a keen desire to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe from harm and from whatever fears haunted her. “Forgive me, but I thought I’d made my intentions clear.”
The Danger in Tempting an Earl Page 16