“Not when I have nothing to hide and you do.” Gabriel leaned forward. Evan’s heart sank. His brother’s knack for reading people was about to cause him problems, he could see that. “What is wrong with you?”
Evan sighed again. “I was out with Josie.”
“Oh.” Gabriel leaned back, surprise clear on his face. “I see. You didn’t tell me that was your plan.”
“It wasn’t,” Evan ground out.
“Something happened,” Gabriel breathed, rushing to Evan. “What is it? Were you able to extract any information about Claire from her?”
A jolt of guilt hit Evan and he turned away from his brother. Yes, that was what he was supposed to be doing with Josie, finding out about Claire. But he hadn’t been doing a very good job at it. Not at all. And now he felt guilt both for trying and for failing.
One way or another, he was betraying someone.
“Look, I came upon Josie about to do a few visits in the shire and I accompanied her,” he explained.
“And? Because I know there is an and here,” Gabriel pushed, this time a bit more gently.
Evan shut his eyes. “There is more to her than I allowed myself to imagine, Gabriel. And when I told you before that I might not be able to see the line between flirtation and something more serious, I was right. Things…progressed between us yesterday.”
Gabriel looked at him through narrowed eyes for a moment, but then his meaning seemed to come clear. “Oh. I see. So you…kissed her?”
Evan cleared his throat. “Yes. Several days ago, though. Yesterday I…I went a bit further.”
Gabriel staggered back at the admission, his eyes wide and his mouth dropped open. “You seduced Jocelyn Westfall?”
Evan glared at him as he rushed to shut the parlor door. “Say it a bit louder, I’m not sure Mother heard in the garden,” he snapped. “God, Gabriel. No! I did not seduce her. Not…not fully, at any rate.”
“But you went beyond kissing.” Gabriel blinked. “With Josie.”
“You keep saying it as if it is insane, but you have seen the girl. She is Venus, she is temptation embodied, she is gorgeous…somehow.” Evan clenched his fists. “No one should say otherwise.”
“I will admit Josie has greatly improved with age,” Gabriel said slowly. “Though she is not exactly my type. But what does this mean?”
“I don’t know. She seems to have no expectations or even much desire for a future,” Evan murmured, surprised that disappointment clouded his thoughts on that subject.
Gabriel nodded. “Excellent.”
“How is it excellent?”
“No, romantic entanglement is always excellent,” his brother said with a wave of his hand. “Especially since the reason you pressed her in the first place was Claire. If you wrap her around your finger with seduction, it seems to me that you will be all the closer to either uncovering what she knows through her confession, or through investigation through her things.”
Evan stared at Gabriel. “Do you think I feel good about taking advantage of an innocent? Do you think I’m rubbing my hands together in some Machiavellian plan to use her weakness against her?”
“You said yourself she has no assumption that this…this connection between you will lead to a future and certainly you could not want that.” Gabriel shrugged. “Why not obtain whatever you can from this opportunity?”
“Do you hear yourself talking?” Evan asked, drawing back from Gabriel in surprise. “You are so obsessed with finding Claire that you are willing to surrender your morals, your values, everything you are?” He shook his head. “Actually, you are willing to sacrifice mine, I suppose?”
Gabriel’s jaw set and his dark eyes sparked with emotion. “Claire is our sister—do you not care more about her than some chit who has hated you for over a decade?”
“I care!” Evan burst out in frustration. “Fuck, we all care, Gabriel!”
“You say you care, but no one is willing to sacrifice!” Gabriel paced away. “Audrey, Jude, Edward and Mary all went back to London to celebrate their marriages while our sister rots. You’re dancing around Josie Westfall like she matters. And all the while Claire suffers.”
Evan stared at his brother. He could see the searing pain slashed across Gabriel’s face. He could well-imagine it was only intensified by Gabriel’s natural tendency to analyze and deduce. He was so tied up in knots by the disappearance of his twin that he was out of control. Almost as lost as Claire was herself.
Evan moved forward and pressed a hand to Gabriel’s shoulder. “Listen to me, please,” he said softly, hoping to reach his brother through his pain.
Gabriel hesitated a moment, and then nodded. “I’m listening.”
“Everyone in our family cares about Claire, Gabriel. Every single one of us would put our lives on the line to bring her home safely if the opportunity arose.” Gabriel’s face softened a fraction, but Evan continued, “But it is up to Claire to give us the opportunity. It has been made very clear by her actions that she left of her own volition. And even when she realized that Jonathon Aston wasn’t who she believed, she has stayed with him also of her own choice. Gabriel, she doesn’t want to come home.”
Gabriel’s gaze clouded and he jerked to escape Evan’s grasp. “Shut up,” he growled.
“I know that is difficult for you. She’s your twin, you have a bond unlike any other in the family. But you must accept that it is true.”
To his surprise, Gabriel lunged toward him and caught Evan’s lapels in both fists and shook him so hard his teeth rattled.
“Shut up!” Gabriel shouted in his face.
For a moment they stood that way, frozen for different reasons. Then Gabriel released him, staggering backward before he fled the room. Evan stared at the open door where his brother had gone, shaken by Gabriel’s anger. His drive. It was so intense, so singular of purpose that Evan feared Gabriel might lose control because of it.
“We can’t lose another,” he murmured.
But what could he do to save Gabriel? Would more information about Claire actually help him? Make his brother come to accept the truth and get out of this loop where saving her was his only drive?
And could Evan’s developing relationship with Josie actually do that? Just as Gabriel desired?
“God,” Evan muttered as he left the parlor and strode up the hallway. He needed air, he needed space, he needed—
He stopped as he entered the foyer. There, standing next to Vernon, was exactly what he needed more than anything else. Josie.
She was wearing a cream and pink striped gown that fitted her curves perfectly and brought out the brightness of her green eyes. She was utterly beautiful and in that moment, he wanted nothing else but her.
Her gaze slipped to him and whatever she was saying to the servant stopped as she gaped, her expression telling him she was as moved by him as he was by her. All this inhibitions about her, all his hesitations didn’t matter then.
“Miss Westfall,” he said as he entered the foyer. “What a surprise.”
“G-good morning, my lord,” she said, casting a quick glance at Vernon. “I’m sorry to call without sending word first.”
Evan waved off the apology and smiled at Vernon. “I can take care of Miss Westfall, Vernon. Please feel free to return to your duties.”
The butler gave a quick bow and then scuttled away, leaving the two of them alone in the foyer. Evan stared at her lips. God, how he wanted to claim them. Right here, right now.
Instead, he shook his head. “You are right this is a surprise,” he said, desperate to remain appropriate, at least for the moment.
She nodded, though she seemed no less distracted than he was. “Yes,” she said, then she shook her head as if clearing her mind. “Yes. I-I came to call on your mother, you see.”
He arched a brow at how her voice cracked, at how her hands trembled at her sides. “My mother?” he asked. She gave a jerky nod and he smiled. “You are the worst liar,” he whispered as he held out a h
and. “Come on, Josie.”
She stared at the outstretched offering, and he could all but see her wheels turning in her mind. She was a lady and what he offered her was so not ladylike. But she wanted it. Wanted him, and he saw that she was not able to resist even before her trembling fingers intertwined with his.
“Evan?” she whispered, looking up at him in confusion and desire tangled together.
He smiled. “It’s all right, Josie. I promise you, I will make everything all right.”
Then he guided her out of the house and hoped he could keep that promise.
CHAPTER NINE
Evan hadn’t said so much as a word to Josie as they walked down the long path away from the main house. For her part, she could hardly breathe, let alone speak as he guided her away from safety and toward the unknown. A metaphor if she had ever experienced one. And yet, she didn’t feel unsafe with him. She felt…right.
Which likely made her an idiot of the highest order, but it didn’t matter. She wanted this. Wanted him. The moment he touched her, she knew she wouldn’t resist in the slightest.
“Where are we going?” she asked, thinking of the way Evan had pleasured her by the lakeside the previous day. Her body still tingled with the memories.
He smiled and motioned toward a little cottage at the bottom of the hill. “There.”
She drew back. “The caretaker cottage?”
He nodded. “Jude Samson lives there when he accompanies my brother to this estate, but I doubt he would argue with my borrowing it while he is away on his wedding trip with Audrey.” He stopped and opened the door. “Not that I would ask his permission in this moment.”
He allowed her through and she entered the little cottage. It was snug and cozy, even romantic with its rustic furniture and the small space. Through an open door she saw a room with a big bed, and she shivered.
How far would she go? How far would he?
“Why wouldn’t you ask his permission?” she asked, her voice shaking as he closed the door behind them and put them in utter, complete and highly inappropriate privacy.
“Because if he said no, I wouldn’t be able to do this.” He moved on her, cupping her face gently, tilting her into the proper position and dropping his mouth to hers.
She heard the hungry sound of desire that seemed to come from her very core as she lifted on her tiptoes and met his heated kisses.
“My God, I have thought of nothing but this,” he whispered as he broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers.
“Nor have I. You must think so little of me for being a wanton.”
He pulled back. “Because you came here?”
She nodded. “I hoped I would see you, Evan. I hoped this would happen.”
He laughed. “Then why would I judge you? The moment I saw you standing with Vernon, my heart soared. And trust me, after the morning I’ve had, I needed that. Needed you. Need you now.”
“Then please don’t deny yourself or me,” she whispered.
He met her gaze, and she recognized the fire of his expression. He was going to give her such pleasure. And she hoped that this time, with the privacy of this place, she would be able to do a bit of the same for him.
He took both her hands and guided her back through the main room of the cottage and into the bedroom.
“I want to see you,” he whispered as he began to unfasten her dress. “May I?”
She blushed. “You may be disappointed.”
He frowned. “Impossible.”
She said nothing else as he slowly unbuttoned and unhooked her. When he slid his warm hands beneath the silky fabric of her dress, she hissed out pleasure, but the pleasure faded as he shoved the gown off her shoulders and left it in a heap at her feet.
She was only in her chemise now. And there was no hiding herself in just that thin scrap that clung in all the wrong places. He stared. He stared so long that she found herself lifting her hands.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He jerked his gaze from her body to her face. “What in the world are you apologizing for?”
She fought for words, but they were too painful, so she opened her arms and motioned to herself. “This.”
“This beautiful body that is made for me to worship it? No apologies necessary,” he whispered as he reached out to trace a finger along her collarbone.
She shivered at the touch. “I am not the way women are meant to be. I know it. The fashions of the day are for slender women. My body is not slender. I have curves and…and…”
“And you think this makes you not the way women are meant to be?” he asked, moving closer. Close enough that she could feel his heat.
She nodded, keeping her gaze away from his. The last thing she wanted to see was his agreement with her statement. Or worse, his disgust. But she felt his finger slide beneath her chin and he lifted her face.
“Right now I want you to listen to me. Don’t hear the voices of those who teased you, don’t hear your own voice that batters you, just listen to me,” he said softly. “When I look at you, I see perfection. Your curves are what make you lovely. You are soft and beautiful, warm and welcoming. And I want to do such wicked things to that gorgeous body.”
She stared at him. He looked so very sincere and his heated words curled into her body and soul, wrapping around the ugliness of the past and shielding her from it, if only for this moment. This moment she wanted to last forever.
“Show me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He nodded as he pushed his hands under her chemise straps and stripped the last bit of fabric away. She shivered as the cool air in the still room hit her, shivered as his eyes moved over her. She was naked. In front of a man. In front of this man.
She examined his face for a flash of disgust, disappointment, but there was none there. His dark eyes only dilated with desire as he reached out to cup her naked breast.
She sucked in air at the shock of his touch. His fingers were so warm against her and her body clenched of its own accord as he let the pad of his thumb circle one distended nipple.
“Perfect,” he breathed, and heat flooded her cheeks at that simple declaration.
“I—” she began, then stopped herself.
His gaze eased up from her naked flesh to meet her eyes. “You?” he pressed. “Don’t hold back, Josie. If you want something, say it.”
She swallowed hard. “I want to see you.”
His eyebrows lifted at that request. “Naked?”
She nodded swiftly. “Yes.”
The corner of his mouth turned up, creating that blasted dimple in his cheek. The one she currently wanted to trace with her tongue.
“It’s a fair bargain,” he said, backing away from her to shrug out of his jacket.
She licked her lips as he tossed it aside and went to work on the knot of his cravat. He parted the top of his shirt and she clenched her fists at her sides. The triangle of smooth skin, a little too tan for a proper gentleman, made her ache between her legs. An ache that grew as he tugged buttons open and pulled the shirt free from his waistband. He pulled it away and tossed it aside tossed and she heard a little sound escape her lips.
“Was that a peep, Miss Westfall?” he teased as he opened her arms to let her see.
She nodded. “Very much a peep,” she admitted. “I just…I’ve imagined…and pictures…oh, and statues…but never…never this.”
He smiled at her stammered, broken words and moved closer. “Would you like to touch as well as look?”
“Yes,” came her strangled reply. She reached out her hand, watched it tremble before she laid a flat palm on the broad plane of his muscular chest.
His eyes fluttered shut and a curse escaped his lips as she let her palm glide down, over hard muscle, over warm skin. Urges washed over her. She wanted to flatten her breasts against him and rub like a cat, she wanted to trace all the ridges and valleys of his body with her tongue.
She wanted to do anything to get closer to h
im. Anything.
Her fingers reached his waistband and she glanced up at him. His eyes were still squeezed shut, his breath short as she stroked him. But she wanted more. With a shiver, she began to open the buttons of that closed the flap of his trousers.
His eyes flew open and he stared down at her. “What are you doing?”
She smiled. “Trying to see the rest, my lord.”
“Well, who am I to stop you?” he chuckled, tilting his hips to allow her better access. It took a moment, but she finally freed him and dropped the flap. When she did, she gasped out loud.
There it was, his member.
“Statues make this look much, much smaller,” she murmured.
Now his chuckle became a full laugh. He tilted his head back, exposing the corded tendons of his tanned throat, and his laughter filled the room, lessening her fear, making her smile even in this moment so charged with emotion and desire and anxiety.
He made it all so…easy.
“Yes, I fear the sculptors of the world really didn’t do us a service, did they?” he asked. “But I am real, not made of stone.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, staring at his member once more. It did seem very large. And it was hard, curling against his belly in a dominant display.
“Touch me and see,” he whispered, all the humor gone from his voice and his eyes.
She blinked as she stared at him, stared at it. “How?” she asked.
He smiled as he reached out to catch her hand. He lifted it to him and closed her fingers around his length. She jolted at he feel. Velvet over steel, warmth and strength combined.
“Oh,” she gasped, smoothing her fingers against him as she explored him.
“Yes,” he moaned, his tone broken. “Oh.”
“I’m not hurting you?” she asked, watching his face twist.
He shook his head. “On the contrary, your hands feel like heaven.”
“Yesterday, you said that you would stroke yourself to find relief,” she said, blushing once more at how frank her words were. She cupped him and began to slide over him gently. “Did you do so?”
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