He placed a hand on her round behind and shoved one knee between hers. He settled her against the hard ridge of his erection, turning his desire for her into a hot greedy thing he could barely control. Her kiss turned wetter and hungrier, and he gave her what she needed.
She’d been wrong about him. He didn’t want a woman to bend herself around for him. Although there was nothing wrong with rocking his world in bed. Or out of bed. Or in the pantry. At the moment Clare was doing a really good job of it. He slid his hand from her behind to her waist and slipped his fingers beneath the bottom edge of her sweater. Her skin was soft, and he drew a circle on her belly with his thumb. She moved against his erection and he fought the urge to push down her pants and have sex with her right there. On the floor of the pantry where anyone could walk in, satisfying his lust between her soft thighs and easing the razor edge of desire that twisted and turned low in his belly and added a slice of pain to the pleasure.
He raised a hand to the top button of her sweater and pulled. The sweater parted, and he continued to kiss her senseless as he lowered his hand to the next button. The last thing he wanted was for her to stop him. There would be time to stop, later. Right now he wanted just a bit more. Five more buttons and his hand slipped between the edges of her sweater and he cupped her breast. Through the lace of her bra, her hard nipple poked the center of his palm.
She pulled back and lowered her startled gaze to his hand. “You unbuttoned my sweater.”
He brushed her nipple with his thumb, and she closed her eyes and her breathing caught in her chest. “I want you,” he whispered.
She looked up at him, desire and control conflicting in her blue eyes. “We can’t.”
“I know.” Through the tiny wholes in the lace, he felt tantalizing hints of her warm flesh. “We’ll stop.”
She shook her head but didn’t remove his hand. “We should probably stop now. The door doesn’t lock. Someone could walk in.”
True. Normally that might have given him pause. Not today. With both hands, he pushed the edges of her sweater farther apart and lowered his gaze. “Ever since that night at the Double Tree,” he said, “I’ve thought of this. Of undressing you and touching you.” He looked at her cleavage and her hard nipples pressing against the red lace of her bra. “Of having another look at little Clare.”
“I’m not little anymore,” she whispered.
“Yes. I know,” he said, and slid three fingers beneath the shoulder strap. “I like this. You should always wear red.” Beneath the satin and lace, he slipped his fingers to the red bow nestled between her deep cleavage. He bent forward and kissed the side of her neck while his hands opened the little closure hidden beneath the bow. The bra released and he pushed it, along with her sweater, down her arms.
“But you look better naked these days.” Her full white breasts were perfectly round and topped with small dark pink nipples, puckered and ready and offered up like dessert. He lowered his head and kissed the hollow of her throat, her cleavage, and the side of her breast. He looked up into her face as he opened his mouth and touched his tongue to the tip of her pebbled nipple. He rolled it beneath his tongue, and she brought her hands to the sides of his face and arched her back. Her nostrils flared, and she watched him through blue eyes turned liquid and shining with passion.
Sebastian moved his hands to her back and held her while he opened his slick mouth and sucked her inside. His tongue played with the hard and soft textures of her flesh as the sharp edge of lust tugged and twisted and tortured him.
“Stop!” she whispered, and pushed him away.
He looked up at her, dazed and drugged with the taste of her skin lingering in his mouth. Stop, he’d just gotten started.
Outside the closed door, someone turned on the sink faucet. “I think it’s Leo,” she whispered.
His grasp on her back tightened as he heard the muffled voice of his father through the door. The last thing he wanted was to stop, but he didn’t want his father to walk in on him and Clare either. “Come to the carriage house with me,” he said next to her ear.
She shook her head and pulled out of his embrace. The sound of the water stopped and he recognized his father’s footsteps, fading in the direction of the dining room.
He ran his fingers through his hair as sexual frustration smashed into him. “You have a big house. I’m sure there are plenty of rooms to finish this.”
Again she shook her head as she reached for the cups of her bra and closed the red lace over her breasts. Her dark ponytail brushed her shoulders. “I should have known you’d take things too far.”
His frustration beat at his brain and pounded his groin and he wanted to damn well finish what they’d started. In the carriage house. Her house. The back of a car. He didn’t give a shit. “Less than a minute ago you weren’t complaining.”
She glanced up, then back down, as she hooked the bow between her breasts. “Who had time? You move too fast.”
Now she was making him angry. Just as she had the morning at the Double Tree. “You were into everything I was doing to you, and if Leo hadn’t walked into the kitchen, you’d still be moaning and holding onto my ears. In another few minutes I would have had you completely naked.”
“I wasn’t moaning.” She pulled the edges of her sweater together. “And don’t fool yourself. I wouldn’t have let you take off any more of my clothing.”
“And don’t lie to yourself. You would have let me do anything I wanted.” He fought the urge to grab her and kiss her until she begged him for more. “The next time you let me undress you, I’m going all the way.”
“There won’t be a next time.” Her hands shook as she buttoned her sweater. “This got out of control before I could stop it.”
“Right. You’re not a girl with only a vague idea where this was leading. The next time, I’m going to finish the job that your old fiancé couldn’t quite get done.”
She sucked in a breath and looked up at him. Her eyes narrowed and she was once again the old Clare. Perfectly groomed and in control. “That was cruel.”
He felt cruel.
“You don’t know anything about my life with Lonny.”
No, but he could guess. The sound of footsteps returned to the kitchen once more, and he leaned forward and said just above a whisper, “I’m giving you fair warning right now. If I ever have my face buried in your breasts again, I’m going to give you what you need so damn bad.”
“You have no idea what I need. Stay away from me,” she said, and stormed out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
He would have loved to storm out too, but he had a painful problem residing in his pants and pressing against his zipper.
Through the door he heard his father’s voice. “Have you seen Sebastian?” Leo asked.
Sebastian waited for her to rat him out. Just as she had years ago when she’d been angry with him. He looked around for something to shield his obvious erection.
“No,” Clare answered. “No, I haven’t seen him. Have you checked the carriage house?”
“Yes. He’s not there.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”
Fourteen
Fiona Winters was quite positive she was not the sort of woman to attract the notice of a man such as Vashion Elliot, Duke of Rathstone. She was his daughter’s governess. A nobody. An orphan with a few farthings to her name. She liked to think she was a good governess to Annabella, but she was hardly pretty. Or at least not in the fashion of opera singers or ballerinas, as was the Duke’s well-known preference.
“I beg your pardon, your grace?”
He took a step back and tilted his head to one side. His gaze moved across her face. “I think the fresh air of the Italian countryside has added a nice glow to your cheeks.” He raised a hand and captured a stray wisp of her hair dancing on the breeze before her eye. His fingers brushed her face as he tucked it behind her ear. “You look much improved in the past three months.”
S
he held her breath and managed a strangled, “Thank you.” She was sure a steady diet had more to do with her health than fresh air. Just as she was sure the Duke of Rathstone meant nothing by his comment on her appearance. “If you’ll excuse me, your grace,” she said. “I must get Annabella ready for the Earl and Countess Diberto’s visit.”
Clare reached for a research book on peerage and cracked it open. She was about to introduce two new characters and had to make sure she knew the correct titles of the Italian aristocracy. Just as she’d flipped to a page in the middle of the book, the doorbell rang and “Paperback Writer” played throughout the house. It was Saturday morning and she wasn’t expecting anyone.
Clare rose from her chair and moved to one of the dormer windows that overlooked the driveway in front. Leo’s Lincoln was parked below, but she had a feeling Leo wasn’t the driver. She pushed open the window and a blast of cold December air hit her face and seeped through the tight cotton weave of her black turtleneck.
“Leo?”
“Nope.” Sebastian stepped out from beneath her porch and looked up at her. He wore his black parka and a pair of black-rimmed sunglasses.
She hadn’t seen him since the day before, when she’d run out of her mother’s pantry. She could feel her cheeks heat up despite the cold. She’d hoped that she wouldn’t have to see him for a while. Maybe a year. “Why are you here?”
“This is where you live.”
Looking down at him made her stomach feel a little light. The kind of light that had nothing to do with any sort of deep emotion and everything to do with desire. The kind of desire any woman would feel for a man whose looks combined with his smile were an overkill. “Why?”
“Let me in and I’ll tell you why.”
Let him in her house? Was he crazy? Just yesterday he’d warned her that he was going to give her what he thought she needed. Of course, that had all been predicated on her finding herself half naked with him again. And she wasn’t altogether sure she could swear-
“Come on, Clare. Open the door.”
– it wouldn’t happen again. And while she’d love to blame the whole thing on him, he’d been right. She was old enough to know where an unbuttoned sweater would lead.
“I’m freezing my ass off out here,” he called up to her, interrupting her thoughts, not that they were cohesive anyway.
Clare stuck her head farther out the window and looked at the neighbors on both sides. Thank goodness no one heard him. “Quit yelling.”
“If you’re worried I’m going to try and jump your bones again, don’t,” he yelled louder. “I can’t take another rejection so soon after the last. I had to stay in that damn pantry for a good half hour.”
“Shhh.” She shut the windows with a snap and moved from her office. If she hadn’t been afraid of what he might holler next, she wouldn’t let him in, but she suspected he knew that. She moved down the stairs and through the kitchen to the entry. “What?” she said as she stuck her head out the front door.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. “Is that how you greet all your guests? No wonder everyone thinks you’re such a nice sweet girl.”
“You’re not a guest.” He laughed, and she sighed with resignation. “Fine.” She swung the door open and he stepped inside. “Five minutes.”
“Why?” He stopped in front of her and pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Are you having one of your prayer circles?”
“No.” She shut the door and leaned her back against it. “I’m working.”
“Can you take an hour’s break?”
She could, but she didn’t want to spend any of her breaks with Sebastian. He smelled like crisp cold air and one of those man soaps like Irish Spring or Calvin Klein. He was acting more chipper than normal and he’d turned down his mojo, but she didn’t trust him. Now it was her turn to ask, “Why?”
“So you can come help me pick out a Christmas present for my father.”
She didn’t trust him not to try something, and she didn’t trust herself not to let him. “Wouldn’t it be easier to buy a gift in Seattle?”
“Dad’s not coming to Seattle for Christmas, and I finally found a buyer for my mother’s house. I don’t know if it’ll close in time for me to make it back here to spend it with him, so I was hoping to find something before I have to leave. You’ll help me out with this. Right?”
“Not a chance.”
He rocked back on his heels and looked down at her. “I helped you with the outdoor lights, and you said you’d help me out with Leo.”
She didn’t think that was exactly how it had happened. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Tomorrow. A whole twenty-four more hours to forget about the things he’d done with his mouth. Things besides talking. Things he was really good at doing.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.” As if he read her mind, he held up his hands and said, “I won’t touch you. Believe me, I don’t want to spend another day with blue balls.”
She couldn’t believe he’d just said that to her. Wait, this was Sebastian. Of course she could believe it. He must have mistaken her astonishment for confusion because he tipped his head back and raised a brow.
“You have heard of blue balls?”
“Yes, Sebastian. I’ve heard of…” She paused and raised a hand in the air. “…of that.” She didn’t want to talk about his testicles. That seemed highly…personal. Something he’d discuss with a girlfriend.
He unzipped the front of his coat. “Don’t tell me you can’t say blue balls.”
“I can, but I prefer not to have those words in my mouth.” Lord, she hadn’t meant to sound like her mother.
Beneath his coat he wore a chambray shirt tucked into his jeans. “This, from the woman who called me a dickhead. You didn’t seem to have a problem with that in your mouth.”
“I was provoked.”
“So was I.”
Maybe, but he’d been the worst offender. Lying about them sleeping together had been worse than her accusing him of taking advantage of her. Way worse.
“Get your coat. Believe me, after yesterday, I learned my lesson. I don’t want to touch you any more than you want to touch me.”
Which was the problem. She wasn’t all that sure she didn’t want him to touch her or her to touch him. She was sure, though, that it was probably a bad idea. She frowned and looked down at herself. At the bottom of her ribbed turtleneck that didn’t quite touch the black leather belt looped in the waistband of her jeans. “I’m not really dressed for shopping.”
“Why not? You look relaxed. Not so uptight. I like you this way.”
She glanced up at him. He didn’t appear to be joking. Her hair was down and she was only wearing mascara. Sometimes her friends teased her because she put on a little makeup every day, even when she didn’t have plans to leave the house. Maddie and Lucy and Adele didn’t care if they scared the UPS man. She did. “One hour?”
“Yep.”
“I know I’m going to regret this,” she said through a sigh as she moved to the closet and reached for her coat.
“No, you won’t.” He gave her one of the lopsided smiles that creased the corners of his green eyes. “I’ll behave even if you beg me to throw you down and climb on top of you.” He stepped behind her and helped her into her black peacoat. “Well, maybe not if you beg.”
She turned her head and looked up at him as she pulled her hair from the wool collar. The ends of her hair brushed his hands before he removed them from her shoulders. “I won’t beg.”
He lowered his gaze to her mouth. “I’ve heard that one before.”
“Not from me. I mean it.”
He looked back up into her eyes. “Clare, women say a lot of things they don’t really mean. Especially you.” He stepped back and stuck his hands in his coat pockets. “Gotta purse you need to take?”
She reached for her crocodile hobo bag and hung it on one shoulder. Sebastian followed her outside, and she locked the door behind them.
&nb
sp; “I saw a print shop downtown,” he said as he walked to the passenger side of the Town Car and opened the door. “I’d like to start there.”
The print shop was actually more of an art gallery and frame shop, and Clare had bought several pieces from the shop in the past. Today, as she and Sebastian walked through the gallery, she noticed the way he studied the paintings. He’d stop, turn his head to one side, and dip one shoulder lower than the other. She also noticed he stopped most often in front of nudes.
“I don’t think Leo would hang that one in his living room,” she said as he studied a beautiful woman laying on her stomach amidst rumpled white sheets, the sunlight caressing her bare behind.
“Probably not. Did you see anything you like in here?” he asked.
Clare pointed to a woman wearing a sheer white dress, standing on the beach and holding a baby. “I like the expression on her face. It’s blissful.”
“Hmm.” He turned his head to the side. “I’d say it’s more peaceful.” He moved in front of a chalk drawing of a nude man and woman locked in an embrace. “Now that woman’s expression is blissful.”
She would have said it was more orgasmic, if she were the kind of woman to say such things out loud in public.
In the end Sebastian chose a signed lithograph of a man and a boy standing on a big rock at the edge of the Payette River, fishing. While they looked at matte and frame samples, he asked her opinion about each and took her suggestions. He paid extra to have it finished by Christmas. Delivery was going to be a problem, considering the time crunch, and before Clare could stop herself, she volunteered to pick it up on Christmas Eve.
He looked at her out of the corners of his eyes and frowned. “No thanks.”
She smiled up at him. “I won’t wrap it in pink ribbon. I swear.”
He thought about her offer as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “If you’re sure it won’t be a problem.”
I’m In No Mood For Love Page 17