by Josie Dennis
“Didn’t you stay and chat with your new family?”
Henry just shook his head. “Too much family, I’m afraid. It will take some getting used to, not that I have any illusions toward ever feeling at ease.”
Julian just studied him for a moment before shrugging a shoulder. “Then take your ease with me, Henry. Like we just did but like this as well.”
Henry managed a smile even though he knew in his heart such companionship wouldn’t last.
* * * *
Poppy stepped lightly down the stairs toward the kitchens, eager for tonight’s practice despite the late hour. She was creating another special dessert in honor of the earl’s guest, and she wanted to make something out of the ordinary. Lord Stanton was a favored guest to the family and, to hear Julian describe him, he was beyond handsome. If Julian thought so, given he saw his own beautiful face in the glass each morning, Lord Stanton had to indeed be a sight to behold.
“Perhaps a sponge cake,” she mused aloud as she walked into the dimly lit kitchens. She took up her apron, left on a hook beside the doorway, and donned it. “A light, airy thing. With…oranges, I think.”
She switched on the lights over the work table and, after a flicker and a hum, the space was illuminated. Her breath caught as she spotted something completely out of the ordinary draped across the wooden surface. Someone, actually. It was a large, fit man in a slightly rumpled but otherwise fine white linen shirt. His face was turned away from her, and his sinfully dark wavy hair caught the lights. Coming silently around the long end of the table, she moved until she could see his face. If her breath caught before, it froze in her chest now.
“Lord Stanton,” she whispered.
He stirred, his big body shifting on the bench beneath him. His head was pillowed on his bared, crossed forearms and he looked younger in repose. That was, she supposed he looked younger than he did when awake. Less intimidating. She’d seen the earl and his other Hawk relatives. They were intimidating and intense to say the least. This one had to have trait in common.
Her ears strained to catch the sound of anyone in the hallway, but she heard nothing tonight. She came closer now, bending down to look into his face. “Lord Stanton,” she said again, a bit louder this time.
His thick lashes fluttered as his eyes opened, eyes that were as dark and magnetic as she’d feared. Her blood pounded, and her skin flushed hot.
As he unfolded his body, the muscles in his broad back rippling as he straightened, he didn’t take his eyes off of her. Her heart racing, she backed away until she felt the rim of the large sink right up against her bottom.
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice deliciously raspy from sleep.
“Poppy,” she managed, dipping a quick curtsey. “The cook’s assistant.”
“The cook’s assistant.” He blinked, then sat up. His eyes roamed over her, slowly. “I can see why you drive him mad.”
She licked her lips nervously. “Him?”
“Julian.” He stood, coming closer. “He told me of you.”
His scent reached her, and it was different from Julian’s. He smelled spicy, but just as delectable. She struggled to hold on to a thought.
“Julian spoke to you of me, my lord?”
He smiled, and her knees felt as weak as overbaked pie crust.
“Julian said you tasted sweet,” he said.
Her mouth dropped open. “Never say he told you that he kissed me.”
“Please don’t be alarmed, Poppy. I would never say a thing to compromise your position.” He stepped closer. “Or Julian’s.”
There was something in his voice, a warmth she hadn’t expected.
“You speak fondly of him,” she marveled aloud.
His cheeks reddened, and she wondered at that for a moment. “He and I have become close.” He turned and headed back toward the table. “A first for me, believe me.”
He didn’t offer more on the subject, just faced her again. He continued to watch her as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. Strange, as she wasn’t a complicated girl by any means.
“Why are you here, my lord?”
He shrugged. “I feel comfortable in the kitchens.”
She scoffed. “How could a man of your standing want to spend any time at all in the kitchens?”
The expression in his eyes grew soft as he apparently mused over something. “I spent much time there as a child, Poppy.”
“Why?” She covered her mouth with one hand, and then dropped it to fiddle with the ties on her apron. “Forgive me, my lord.” She curtseyed again. “I’m being impertinent.”
“You are not.” He dipped his head. “And call me Henry.”
Shock ran through her. “I could never!”
“As you wish, Poppy.” He suddenly reached out to stroke her cheek as Julian had before. “Christ, you really are something to look at.”
She stared up at him, caught in his gaze. “What are you doing?”
“You drove him mad, you know.”
“Who?”
He dropped a wink, and the effect was startlingly sensual. “Julian, Poppy. You shared kisses with him and left him wanting.”
She thought about how Julian’s body had felt pressed close to hers. How she’d felt herself when he’d cupped her breast. Licked her skin. He’d been stiff and strong against her belly. Could he have been aroused? He’d said nearly as much.
“My lord, I should leave you to your solitude.”
“It isn’t my solitude though, is it? And Henry, if you please.”
“If I please?” No one ever gave her leave to speak as she would. Not at Hawksfell Manor, in any event.
“Ah, I believe you could please Julian quite well. And myself, I wager.” This time he came as close to her as Julian had. “This is your domain, isn’t it?”
She gave a shaky nod, still staring up at him. He dipped his head, his face at the side of her neck as he breathed in.
“Damn, you smell good.”
She fingered the ties at the front of her apron again. “It’s my apron. I use it when I bake.”
He dipped his head lower, to the bib of her apron, and her nipples tightened as they had with Julian. “The apron does carry the scent of sweets, but your skin?” He nuzzled her throat, his tongue teasing her. “Your skin smells even sweeter.”
She trembled as he brought his sinful mouth to hers. “My lord…”
“Henry,” he breathed, flicking his tongue over her lips. “Say it.”
“H-henry,” she whispered.
He let out a sigh and covered her mouth with his. Oh, his kiss was as delicious as Julian’s! She opened her mouth as he delved inside, reveling in his taste. Her body was on fire as he held her, his big hands cupping her bottom. She felt him go rigid against her belly, and knew then that was what Julian spoke of.
“Poppy,” he rasped, leaving her lips to dip his tongue just above her collarbone. “You’re intoxicating.”
She clutched at his head, wondering at the silken strands so cool in her fingers as his mouth was so hot. “Henry.”
He lifted his head, a carnal glint in his eyes. “I want to make you say that when I take you.”
She could only stare at him.
“Forgive me.” He pushed away from her. “I shouldn’t have touched you.”
“Why?” she asked again, unable to keep the question to herself. He’d made her feel so many things. Want. Need. Curious to see just what this passion was about.
“Because you’re Julian’s.”
She gasped. “I am not Julian’s!”
He actually smiled then. “Not yet.”
She marveled at the certainty in his tone as he left her alone at last.
Chapter 5
The next morning Henry woke in his guest chamber, his mind befuddled and his nerves strung taut. He’d gone down to the kitchens for a bit of something sweet last night, but he’d never imagined encountering the girl that drove Julian to distraction. She was sweet, though. And he’d neve
r wanted another so soon after soothing his beast. It seemed that Hawksfell Manor wasn’t working any sort of magic on his particular curse, since he wanted Poppy as much as he’d wanted Julian.
In all of his adult life he’d never craved someone the way he wanted Poppy. And as for Julian? He wanted him still, and that was indeed a first. He swung his legs out of the bed and rang for his valet.
“Good morning, my lord,” Julian asked a few moments later as he strode into the room.
Henry tied the sash on his robe and eyed him, easily seeing the fit body beneath the starched uniform. “Good morning, Julian.”
Julian went to work on Henry’s clothes, brushing the brown jacket and trousers Henry had left out. Henry walked over to him, cupping the back of his neck as he stilled him.
“Henry,” Julian began.
Henry kissed him and pulled back. “I had to kiss you, Julian.”
Julian leaned in and kissed him, his lips soft. He smiled, his eyes sparkling. “That’s a first for me, starting my day of service with a kiss.”
Henry wanted to indulge himself in more of Julian, but he knew he couldn’t go forward without telling him about what happened last night.
“Julian, I kissed Poppy.”
Julian’s eyes widened. “What? When?”
Henry rubbed a hand over his face and let out a breath. “Last night.”
“How did you even see her?”
“I went down to the kitchens.” He shrugged. “I tend to do that back at Stanton House, and I didn’t even give it a thought.”
“Poppy uses the kitchens after hours. She wants to be a pastry chef.”
Henry studied Julian, looking for any jealousy and finding none. “It doesn’t bother you that I kissed her?”
Julian blinked. “As surprising as that is, it doesn’t.”
Henry let out a breath he’d been holding. “She’s as sweet as you said.”
Julian winked. “Delectable. That leaves us with a problem, doesn’t it? That is, it leaves me with a problem.”
“What would that be?”
“You want her, Henry. I can see it in your eyes.”
Henry folded his arms. “And does it follow that I’ll have her?”
Julian quirked a golden eyebrow. “Can she refuse you?”
Henry felt his stomach clench. “I’ve never forced anyone, Julian.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Julian placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder, taking away some of the tension thrumming through him. “You’re so damn compelling, that’s all.”
That caused Henry to smile a little. “Do I compel you?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about what we shared, Henry. And I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more.”
“But you want Poppy for your own.”
“It doesn’t follow that I’ll have her.”
“She did say she wasn’t yours or anyone’s,” Henry told him.
Julian laughed softly. “That doesn’t surprise me. She is a singular girl. And a singular temptation.”
Henry sank down in his now familiar armchair beside the fireplace. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“You said you kissed her.”
“Yes,” Henry answered.
“Did she kiss you back?”
Henry closed his eyes as the delicious memory of Poppy’s supple body bending into his struck him. “She did.” He opened his eyes and faced his lover. “She responded, Julian.”
Julian’s eyes flared with heat. “Did you do more than kiss her, Henry?”
He shook his head. “No. But I wanted to bend her over that long wooden table and taste her.”
Julian closed his eyes now and let out a low whistle. He knew what the other man was thinking. He was clearly imagining her spread on the table, her sweet pink pussy open to his tongue.
“She would be a treat,” Julian said.
“What do you think about loving her, Julian? With me?”
“I’ve never.” Julian sat across from him as he had last night. “I admit, the notion of sharing with her what you and I have would be incredible. The prospect of having her together? It excites me.”
Henry felt his beast stir and tamped it down. “We would have to be careful. I wouldn’t want to compromise your position or hers.”
“I appreciate your consideration. But that’s if she would join us.”
Henry thought for a moment. “Why don’t you approach her?”
“I could.” He grinned. “I could also get a slap for my effort.”
Henry laughed. “Too true. But when I think about the three of us together, I think it’s worth a slap to your pretty face.”
“So you say.” Julian’s expression grew serious. “Henry, I know this is a lark for you. But for Poppy and me? This is our life.”
Henry splayed a hand over his heart. “This isn’t a lark. I’ve never embarked on anything like this.”
Julian didn’t appear to believe him. “You’ve never had two lovers at once?”
Henry smiled. “I didn’t say that. But I never gave a thought to having either one of them again.”
“You want me again?” Julian asked, his brows arched.
Henry gave a slow nod. His need for this particular man simmered hot in his blood. “Yes.”
Julian stood. “Good. Because I want you again, too.”
Henry welcomed the rush as his cock swelled. Parting his robe, he let Julian see just how much he still wanted him. And when Julian came toward him, that answering heat in his beautiful blue eyes, Henry felt something more than passion.
He sensed once again that elusive connection he’d felt that first night.
* * * *
Julian checked his appearance in the large mirror at the foot of the stairs to the servants’ hall. He’d spent a good part of the morning in Henry’s guest chamber, and he still shivered when he recalled what they’d done there. He’d sucked and licked him to release, which was a first for him. When Henry returned the favor, he’d come so hard he’d nearly passed out. How he’d gotten through the rest of his day, he could barely fathom. Thinking about what he and Henry shared, and what the two of them might share with Poppy sometime soon, was more than distracting.
The staff was eating now, the family having been taken care of abovestairs. Julian, as first footman, had served the meat course and then was able to just observe the familial interaction. Henry didn’t appear very comfortable with these people who, Julian couldn’t ignore, looked very much like him. Once or twice Henry caught his eye, and Julian felt a flush of heat. It had been good to leave that world upstairs when he could finally escape down to the servants’ hall.
“Another evening over,” he offered as he joined the others at the long table.
Mr. Carstairs was already seated at the head so everyone else had followed suit. Julian took his customary seat next to the earl’s valet and sat back as the kitchen maids served the simple dinner of meat and root vegetables. It might not be the elaborate meal served abovestairs, but it was hearty and well earned. He felt a twist in his belly as he realized just how different his life and Henry’s were. No amount of passion shared would change that.
His eyes strayed toward the kitchens as the meal drew to a close. Poppy brought in a cake for the servants, something that smelled like sweet oranges.
“This is much like the one served abovestairs, isn’t it?” Mr. Carstairs asked.
Poppy flushed a little as she nodded. “It’s a sponge cake made with orange icing.”
There were murmurs of pleasure all around the dining table. Julian watched as Poppy’s flush turned a deeper shade of pink. Christ, she was adorable. And so innately sensual. The way she held her body. The tilt of her head. The way she nibbled on her full lower lip when she felt uncertain.
“Join us, Poppy. Please,” Mrs. Holmes said, waving a hand to the chair across from Julian. “You deserve to eat this cake as much as we do.”
Poppy nodded and took off her apron. “I would love
to.” She placed her apron on an empty chair set against the wall and sat. “I hope this is good.”
The cake was served, and everyone began to extol its virtues. Julian tasted some of the icing, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. The flavor put him in mind of Poppy’s kisses, sweet and bright, and made him crave more.
“This is so good,” he said.
A few of the others added their praise to his. Poppy looked endearingly proud and embarrassed by the praise. As he savored her dessert, he longed to take some of this orange icing and slather it over her body. And lick it off of her.
He kept his eyes fixed on her as he ate. She watched his mouth, her little tongue coming out to flick at her lips as he did likewise. It seemed that no one at the table was aware of it, but what they shared with just their eyes was enough to leave him hard in his trousers.
He had promised Henry he would approach Poppy and gain her agreement to join them in the bachelor wing, but how the hell was he going to do that?
He stalled at the table, taking his time over a cup of coffee while the others finished and went on their way. Most left for their rooms in the attics. Some, like the countess’s lady’s maid and the earl’s valet, retreated to go ready their charges’ things for the coming evening. Julian should probably do that as well, but he needed to speak with Poppy and he couldn’t do that until everyone was gone from the servants’ hall.
At last, Mrs. Holmes and Mr. Carstairs also left for their respective offices. Julian was alone with Poppy, though she jumped out of her chair at that very moment.
“I have to see to some things in the kitchen,” she offered.
He could see she was flustered, and he knew he’d have to put her at ease before he attempted to convince her to come to Henry’s guest room. Luckily he knew just how to convince her.
“Poppy.” He strode into the kitchen and found her standing near the work table. “You don’t have to see to anything, do you?”
She covered her face with her hands. “Julian, you shouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Tease me.” She sucked in a breath and lifted her head. “Flirt with me. What if Mrs. Holmes took notice?”