Samantha Holt - Sinful Temptations (Cynfell Brothers Book 6)

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  “You do I see.”

  Harris must have taken her smile for something other than smug satisfaction. She quickly dropped it.

  “All I remember is you being somewhat of an annoyance.” She peered around him. “Now, if you excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”

  “At this early hour? Anyone would think you were trying to avoid me?”

  Anna clenched her teeth together. Damn him. She’d planned to be up early to avoid running into him again, though she had not really expected him to live up to his promise of playing escort. Honestly, she was a grown woman of seven and twenty, and the owner of an establishment most women would never set foot in. As if she needed an escort.

  Or a reminder of that kiss.

  Even now, heat began to rise up from low in her chest and would be making itself known on her cheeks if she wasn’t careful. She did not need the arrogant Harris to know how much his kiss had affected him or how she had barely slept because she’d kept remembering the feel of his lips upon hers.

  Who knew a kiss could be so spectacular?

  No. She would not think of it that way. Would not.

  Her gaze fell to his lips and she dragged it away and cast an annoyed look at the spot behind his head.

  “I really am going to be late.”

  “We’d better make haste then.” He stepped back, motioning with one hand.

  What choice did she have? She breezed past him. She definitely ignored the scent of his cologne. Or how she was certain she felt the heat from his broad chest. And she certainly didn’t think about how handsome he was in his buff trousers, beautifully fitted jacket, and jade green waistcoat.

  Anna swallowed, lifted her chin and strode on ahead. Unfortunately, even with his injury, her skirts meant she could not outpace him.

  Gaze firmly fixed on the end of the corridor and the gilded mirror at the end of it, she reasoned with herself. She’d avoided men for years. There were plenty who would see seducing her as an achievement of sorts and even more who had put quite the effort into luring her into bed. If she’d resisted all of them, she could resist Harris.

  Her gaze connected with his in the polished reflection. She quickly glanced away and they turned the corner toward the stairs. Some of those men had been handsome too.

  Not like Harris, though. His artfully cut, dark brown hair and clean, strong jaw lingered in her memory last night. She had the ridiculous need to run her fingers along it and feel the little indent in his chin. Of all the cravings to have, that was indeed foolish.

  She had needs, of course, but she’d managed to control them. Why would a desire to touch someone’s face be so damnably strong?

  “What sort of business must you attend to today?” Harris asked, apparently oblivious to how she was attempting to outpace him.

  “What sort of business is it of yours?”

  “Well, I cannot very well escort you if I do not know where we are going.”

  She paused on the next floor. “My lord, let me make this clear. I have no need of an escort and I do not wish to share my business with you. I do not share details of my dealings with anyone, least of all someone like yourself.”

  “And how exactly would you describe someone like myself?”

  Anna cast her gaze deliberately over him. “Far too arrogant.”

  “I do believe that is called self-confidence. Perhaps, Anna, you are simply not used to men taking the lead. It wouldn’t hurt to let someone help every now and then.”

  “I have no need of help.”

  “Everyone needs help sometimes. Why, you didn’t see me complaining when you looked after me so diligently.”

  “There is a distinct difference between having an injured leg and merely trying to go about one’s business without interference.”

  “And that I can insure. With me at your side, you’ll run into no interference.”

  Anna shook her head and continued down the stairs. The unfortunate incident yesterday was not a rarity in London, but she’d never had any problems before. She highly doubted it would happen again and for the most part she intended to be in a carriage.

  “Except for your own,” she muttered as he remained at her side while they continued their descent.

  They stepped into the hotel reception. Harris’ cane made tap tap noises on the intricate coloured tiles. Decorated in a theme reminiscent of the ever-popular Turkish baths, a large fountain occupied the centre of the room. Its delicate trickling sound was mostly masked by the staff and a few early risers as well as the low hum of conversation from the dining room.

  Together, they strolled past the lamps that were easily taller than Harris occupying each corner of the gilded gold and white room. Anna hadn’t chosen the hotel for its decorative looks but merely for its location, yet she appreciated the exotic look.

  She did not appreciate, however, Harris following her.

  How would she conduct her business privately with him shadowing her every step? He couldn’t know about what she was trying to do. No one could.

  The doorman pulled open the door and she stepped out onto the busy pavement. Though it was early, businesses were already open, ready to take advantage of shoppers. Carriages lined the road and horses whinnied in anticipation of their busy day.

  Anna lifted a hand to the nearest hack, signalling her intention. She paused to eye Harris over her shoulder. “There is no need to accompany me.”

  His responding grin told her she wasn’t going to lose him easily. Damn the arrogance of the man. What could she do? Fling him out of the carriage? Push him away and run toward the hack and hope for the best?

  Sucking in a long breath of slightly coal-scented air, Anna made her way toward the awaiting carriage, gave the driver her instructions, and stood patiently by the door. Harris chuckled and opened it for her.

  “After you, miss.” He gave a slightly mocking bow.

  Nose in the air, she entered the vehicle and settled herself on the seats. Driffield Road was a fair way up the river and in London traffic it would take some time. As much as she’d prefer to walk, even she knew it wouldn’t be wise to stroll through some of the more dangerous parts of London. The slums and the docks were not places a lady of any breeding should go.

  Harris closed the door behind him and seated himself next to her.

  Anna couldn’t help but smile. “There are perfectly good seats there.” She nodded toward the seats opposite.

  “I would feel terribly lonely there. Besides, I loathe travelling backward.” He tapped on the roof with his cane and the carriage lurched forward. He placed a hand out in front of her to prevent her from tumbling forward.

  And somehow managed to cup her breast. They both stilled, and she eyed the bold hand upon her body.

  Harris withdrew it quickly with a sheepish smile. “That was not intentional, I promise.”

  She settled back against the seat and said nothing. What could she say when the image of his hands upon her body were rioting through her mind?

  She glanced at his hand again, now safely resting upon one leg. It was strong, wide, and capable. No doubt, he was skilled too. Harris was no stranger to bedding women, and if any of the rumours were correct, he was a fine lover. Having said that, there were always rumours surrounding the Cynfell brothers, and Anna refused to take stock in them. After all, she was hardly one to judge. Whispers of her behaviour followed her everywhere she went.

  Blinking away the image of his fingers upon her bare thigh and ignoring the pulse of tension thrumming through her, she peered out of the window. They made slow progress. The streets were clogged with early morning traffic. A young boy touted newspapers on the street, yelling the headlines so loudly that one could hardly hear anything else.

  Once they’d moved a little farther away, Harris cleared his throat and drew her reluctant attention to him. “Where are we visiting today then?”

  “Does it matter?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  “Absolutely.”

  She drew in
a breath through said clenched teeth and willed herself to remain calm. Harris Cynfell conjured up far too many emotions in her and she did not like any of them.

  “Very well, an old friend in Driffield Road.”

  He opened his mouth to respond and she lifted a hand, cutting him off. “If you are so insistent on remaining with me, you shall leave me to deal with my business alone. I have no wish to share tea with my friend whilst you are hanging around like some oversized bodyguard.”

  “Come now, oversized? I’ll have you know I’m very well proportioned.” His teeth flashed in the dark confines of the carriage.

  Heat rushed into her face. She dealt with sex and the seedier side of things on a daily basis yet the idea of Harris’ excellent proportions flustered her immeasurably.

  “Never mind that. You must stay in the carriage. If you don’t, I shall create a mighty fuss and have you hauled off by the nearest bobby.”

  He laughed and it annoyed her that she liked the sound. “I’m not sure I believe you, Anna, but very well. As long as you are safely inside, I shall keep myself occupied elsewhere.”

  “Good.” A reluctant smile thread across her face. “Though, you know, I’m not foolish enough to believe it’s really my safety you are so concerned about.”

  “Ah, now there you are wrong. I have many concerns about you. One of them is most certainly your safety.”

  She shouldn’t ask.

  “And the others?”

  “When am I going to get my next kiss from you? Why do you insist on pretending you’re not affected by me when you blush quite readily? How long has it been since you last indulged your own needs?” He waved a hand as though he had not just spoken the most inappropriate words. “And many other thoughts like that.”

  Anna opened her mouth then shut it. She opened it again to draw in a gulp of air. The confines of the carriage had grown incredibly close. Though her corset wasn’t overly tight, it felt as though Tilly had laced it tighter than humanly possible.

  She was saved by the carriage drawing to a stop. Harris gave her a look that told her the relief was clear on her face. Damn the man. He opened the door for her and aided her out. Keeping her gaze ahead, she refused to acknowledge how his hand lingered upon hers and how ridiculously pleasant it felt to have her hand in his.

  Anna peered up at the townhouse. A few smears of coal dust marred the cream walls but that wasn’t unusual for London. The house would belong to someone of fair means—a doctor or a lawyer perhaps. All she knew was that the nanny for these privileged children might know something about her son. Her heart gave a little jump and she twined her hands together. She might even know exactly where he was.

  Pressing her dry lips together, she forced herself to breath steadily and looked expectantly at Harris. “You need not wait around.”

  A smile warmed his eyes. A far too handsome smile. She turned her gaze away and focused on the polished black door.

  “I shall avail myself of one of the coffee houses, but I won’t be far away.” He forced her attention back onto him when he motioned to the small establishment on one corner.

  “You need not remain at all. I will be quite safe.”

  “I shall see you once you have finished your meeting with your friend.”

  He said friend as though he knew what she was up to. Yet how could he? The only people who knew of her son were her family—her mother, father, and aunt. She had not spoken to them since she’d been forced to give up her child, and she probably never would again. They certainly wouldn’t tell anyone of her shame.

  No, it was more likely Harris knew she was not simply meeting a friend for tea and gossip.

  He was the most dangerous of creatures—rakish, handsome, and frustratingly intelligent. How annoying that he should be so blessed. He would be much easier to resist if he was a fool.

  “Surely you have better things to do?” she tried, even knowing there would be no dissuading him from playing this role of chaperone. Ridiculous really, considering the only man around considering doing scandalous things to her was him.

  She blinked away the flood of thoughts and realised she’d been staring at his mouth.

  Harris lifted a shoulder. “I’m a man about town. Very little else to do and I’d hardly call escorting a beautiful woman a hardship. Much preferable to a long, lazy morning in bed alone.”

  He emphasised alone.

  Anna had been alone since the age of nineteen. She’d woken up alone every morning since. The few men she’d taken to her bed had never appealed to her enough for her to keep them there.

  However, the thought of waking with Harris and spending a long morning in bed with him rattled her. The images of tangled sheets, firm skin, and long kisses burrowed deep into her mind, and she knew full well she’d be recalling them later tonight once she’d settled into bed.

  “I shall see you shortly,” she said curtly as she turned away.

  From the prickling sensation down her back, she knew he watched her as she took the few steps up to the door and pulled the bell, but she refused to look back. The last thing she needed was to be distracted by that man. She was here for her son, nothing more.

  After several years of searching for him, she was so close. Her private investigator had traced the adoption of her son from an orphanage in London. But they’d been unable to find any trace of them—until now. This family had returned recently from America and the rumour was their son was adopted from the same orphanage.

  A maid answered the door and let her in. The nanny greeted her and showed her into a small parlour at the back of the house. A few children’s toys—a spinning top and a wooden train—were scattered on the floor but there was no sign of the children.

  “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” she said as the nanny—a Miss Willis—motioned for her to sit by the window. Tea and a few biscuits were already laid out.

  The woman—a few years younger than her and dressed primly with a neat knot in her hair—gave a soft smile. “You’re not the first woman to have given up a child, and I’m afraid you won’t be the last. I would like to help however I can.”

  “I was not sure you would answer my letter,” Anna admitted. “I have a private investigator trying to find my son, but I did not think you’d appreciate a gentleman asking you questions.”

  “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, thank you.” Miss Willis was a delicately pretty woman, though her hair was more of a mousy colour than would be considered wholly attractive. But she had a softness to her that she imagined attracted many a man but also helped her when looking for positions as a nanny. She certainly appeared the sort to care well for a child.

  “Where are the children?”

  “They are both napping. We have a strong routine here. Mr Lawson wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s a very regimented man.”

  “And he won’t object to you entertaining visitors?”

  “Mr and Mrs Lawson are in the country currently, and the serving staff are very kind.” Miss Willis lifted her cup and took a sip. “Do not fear, Miss Dubois. I would not have offered to meet with you here had I thought it would be endangering my job. Whilst nannies are well sought after, not every household is as well kept.”

  The look she gave Anna told her all she needed to know. The nanny was well looked after here, but she’d wager—much like the women at Stourbridge who had been in service—that she had experienced behaviour that no woman should. Perhaps that was why she was so willing to help her. Women who had been wronged by men tended to stick together.

  Anna stirred some extra sugar into her tea in the hopes it would help calm her. As much as she knew not to hang her hopes on this one meeting, it was the first time she’d had any information on her son. If Miss Willis had looked after her son, she’d be so much closer to tracking him down.

  “Miss Willis, what can you tell me about the family you worked for previously? Lord and Lady Marvelle?”

  “Of course.” She placed the cup on the saucer and
gave her a tight smile. “I was working for a family here when the position was advertised. The family had been in America for some years.”

  Anna nodded. Her investigator had told her as much, which was why she’d not been able to find any trace of her son and where he’d gone. If the child was hers, that was. There was still no evidence he’d definitely been adopted.

  “The family I was working for were rather demanding so when I saw the advertisement, I thought it a fine opportunity to travel and the pay was excellent, particularly as they only had the one child.”

  “So you applied.”

  “Yes. I have good references and education, and they were very particular about wanting an English nanny. I met with Lady Marvelle when she came briefly back to England and travelled over with her once she offered me the job.”

  “And their child...”

  “A little boy. He turned eight shortly before we returned to England.”

  Anna’s heart gave a little jolt, in spite of the fact she already knew the child was the right age. “Can I ask, did the child look like either of his parents? Did you ever hear word of him having been adopted?”

  The nanny shook her head. “No one uttered a word but then few people in Boston knew them well. All the Americans cared for were their titles and little else. Alfred was a sweet child but looked nothing like his mother. I suppose he could have taken after his father.”

  Swallowing, Anna placed down the cup which was beginning to shake. “Did he look at all like me?” she blurted out.

  Miss Willis eyed her for some time. “Well, he was dark-haired, to be sure. Green eyes, though.”

  Anna’s chest tightened. “But there was never any word of her being adopted? Surely, they would have said something to you?”

  “Not a word.” Miss Willis eyed her seriously. “Miss Dubois, these noble folk do not like to admit when they are not perfect. As charitable as it is to adopt a child, they’re more than likely to conduct some sort of ruse to cover up an adoption. If Lord Marvelle is—” she leaned in and lowered her voice “—infertile, he certainly wouldn’t want anyone questioning as much.”

 

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