Invitation to Scandal

by Bronwen Evans

  What worried him was that he couldn’t remember what they were.

  Fighting to control his emotions, he stood for a moment, perched half out of the carriage, the rain forgotten, tugging his cuffs down and straightening his coat. Then he alighted and walked slowly up the steps and through the door.

  The rain ran off his coat, and once free of the garment, he shook away the remaining dampness from his clothes. He handed his coat to the doorman and heard Rheda’s voice. The soft husky tones sent a shiver down his spine. As he moved closer to the receiving line he caught glimpses of apricot silk draping seductive curves. The night’s earlier restlessness returned. He must remember that tonight was not about the pleasure of being in a woman’s company. It was about redemption—for him and the Strathmore name.

  Rheda’s heart was pounding so hard she felt sure the ladies next to her would hear it. Lord Strathmore was sinfully handsome in his formal evening wear. The task she’d set herself tonight made her stomach churn in a heady mixture of fear and desire.

  She followed his movement around the room over the top of her open fan, which she waved violently, trying to cool down. She swallowed. She knew in all likelihood there would be only one way to ensure she had his undivided attention. She closed her fan, not wishing to advertise her hand’s tremble.

  How far would she have to go to save her brother? Would she have to sacrifice all of herself to hold his attention? Her pulse tripped. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way, but she hoped so. She wanted to make love to the handsome viscount.

  She glanced around the ballroom. Her nerves were making her look for a way to escape, but her path was set for the night. Her brother was unaware of the risk she would take to keep their secret. If Daniel found out, she could have her plan backfire, giving her brother just the ammunition he needed to see her betrothed. He would love to see her married to a viscount. This viscount.

  Deep in thought, she did not notice Jamieson at her side until he spoke. “Excuse me, Miss Kerrich, your brother requests a private word in the library.”

  She gave a convincing smile, concealing her disquiet from her guests. “What now, Jamie? Has he lost his cheroot case again?” With a toss of her gloved hand, she exclaimed to her friends, “And they call us the dizzy ones! Please excuse me while I see to my brother’s latest non-emergency.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as she hurried Jamieson out of the ballroom. They climbed the stairs to the library, to the strains of the minuet echoing throughout the house.

  She quietly hissed to Jamieson following behind. “What trouble has my brother got into now? It has to be urgent—Daniel told me to keep an eye on Lord Strathmore. I can hardly do that if I am not in the ballroom.”

  Jamieson responded calmly. “We have a spot of trouble. I will let his lordship explain.” And he pushed open the library door.

  She crossed the threshold and saw Daniel pacing the new Persian carpet, fists clenched at his side and his face set like the grim reaper. Upon seeing her, Daniel walked over and gripped her hands with his.

  “Rhe, we’re in trouble.”

  Although she saw the makings of a disaster in his eyes, she tried not to show her distress. Slipping her hands free, she led him to the settee by the fireplace, calmly sat down, and motioned for him to do the same. “Now, tell me what the problem is.”

  “Davidson’s fallen off his horse and broken his leg. He cannot organize the run tonight. I am going to have to slip away and bring the boat in.”

  She pressed her hand against her stomach. “Is it too late to cancel?”

  “Yes. The boat will have left France already. Damn, tonight of all nights. This was supposed to prove we weren’t involved. I was to be in full view of Lord Strathmore. If he notices I am missing our carefully laid plan is all for nothing.” Daniel stood and moved to the fireplace and gripped the mantelpiece. Glanced at the clock. “What should I do, Rhe?”

  She closed her eyes so she could concentrate. After a moment she opened them, took a breath, and said, “You will proceed as planned, but use the tunnel to the beach so you can move about unseen. Until you leave I suggest you pretend to have drunk too much. If anyone misses you I can always say you have gone to lie down. Can you signal the boat to move farther down the coast?”

  Daniel nodded.

  “Good, then I suggest we use the southernmost cavern. If anyone is waiting for you, they won’t expect that—they will think it is too rocky to land there in a storm. There is less chance of being seen.”

  She rose and moved to the library’s huge window to draw back the drapes. “The storm is picking up. Daniel, please be careful. I cannot lose you.”

  He walked to the window and hugged her. “I will be as quick as I can. Will you be all right here on your own? I have to take Jamieson with me.”

  “Of course.” She gave him a reassuring squeeze and a bright smile. “I have some business to attend to. I must ensure Lord Strathmore is looked after.” Now it was doubly imperative she did not let the viscount out of her sight. Her brother had to remain safe. She would have to keep Lord Strathmore busy.

  Although Rufus smiled politely, bore his share of dances with no sign of ill humor, and never exposed his true churning state of mind, his temper was rising from simmering to boiling point. Now he could not find the baron anywhere; had they lost him?

  He approached Stephen and said, “Worthington, a private word if I may?”

  They withdrew a small distance from the throng.

  “Have you seen the baron?” he asked. “He has been gone for over an hour.”

  “He left to oversee some preparations on the estate due to the weather, but he should have been back by now.” Stephen hesitated. “I knew the storm would be trouble.”

  Rufus had checked everywhere in the manor except the bedchambers. He lifted his head upward, assessing the likelihood of the baron being above. “Stay in the ballroom. I will see if I can find him above stairs.”

  The thought of Rheda’s bedchamber made his rake’s instincts flare to life. He knew he should be focused on the trap he and his men had set tonight, but in truth, the moment he’d set eyes on Rheda in that gown, an ache of desire fiercer than any he’d ever felt throbbed in his groin and overrode all common sense.

  Standing next to her brother in the receiving line, she’d looked like an angel. He’d almost forgotten to breathe. God, he wanted her the minute she’d smiled a warm welcome.

  Rheda. Rheda had looked like a shimmering goddess, dressed in pale apricot. Her lustrous fair hair glinted as the candlelight caught the threads of gold in her chignon piled high on her head, emphasizing her long slender neck. Tonight she looked like any other refined lady of the ton. Only a thousand times more beautiful.

  His fingers itched to touch and stroke the fine, milky perfection of her skin. And the need to press his lips to the pulse he saw racing at the base of her throat almost overwhelmed him.

  He remembered her pliant from the cliff top and sated in his arms. No simpering girl, Miss Rheda Kerrich was definitely a woman, definitely all woman—but definitely not for him.

  Tonight she’d been the perfect hostess, witty, engaging, and demure, with an air of unconcealed confidence about her. Was she playing in her brother’s deadly game? Was she being used to unbalance and distract him from his true mission?

  If so, her plan was working. Awareness of her coated his skin like a fitted glove. His highly developed senses for members of the opposite sex were galloping out of control. She looked more demure, completely virginal, the perfect English rose. Yet he knew her, understood her character, and wouldn’t underestimate her brain. He’d do well to remember even roses had thorns.

  Steeling himself against the desire racing through his already on-edge body, he unlatched her door and stepped into her bedchamber.

  The room was stifling. The only light came from a fire roaring in the grate. At first glance the room appeared empty. Rufus made to back out and close the door when a movement in the shadows to hi
s left stopped him in his tracks.

  “I thought you’d never find me.”

  Her voice was soft, sweet, and teased over his skin like a feather, exciting every inch of him. He should have retreated, but it was too late now. He stepped farther into the room and closed the door, forgetting everything except the silken-clothed vision before him.

  She moved toward him until her breasts pressed his chest directly where he felt his heart pounding. He looked down her gown into the valley between her breasts and desire erupted. She rose up and brushed her lips over his, her fingers twining in his hair, and he let her have her way, powerless to stop her.

  Her eyes locked with his, and he couldn’t understand the message flashing in their emerald depths. All he could do was drink in their sparkling splendor.

  He was so enchanted that he was completely unprepared for what happened next. She began maneuvering him toward the fire. He felt his boots stumble against something on the floor, and before he could blink, she gave his chest a firm shove. He landed on his back, atop fur throws, with Rheda straddling his thighs; her dress was rucked up her legs, her breasts tantalizingly close to his mouth.

  His libido went off like a cannon, powerful and punishing, and before he could think better of it he reached for her and dragged her more firmly atop him for a mind-blowing kiss.

  Yet, he was to be denied. Rheda sat up, straddling his waist, her hands holding his wrists in her gentle but firm grip.

  “If I remember correctly, you were eager to teach me to ride,” she said, her voice a whispered aphrodisiac. “Tonight it is my turn to have my wicked way with you. You’re not the only one who wishes to seduce for information.” She let go of one wrist and stroked a finger across his lips. “Why for instance are you really in Deal?”

  Rufus opened his mouth to answer, and her finger slipped inside. His traitorous mouth responded by clamping around her small digit, drawing it in farther and sucking firmly. She wriggled atop him, and his judgment clouded.

  Excitement avalanched down his spine, and his body, already eager, leaped more prominently to attention. He could overpower her and stop her game at any time, but right now he preferred to play. He longed to see what she was up to and how far she’d go.

  He relaxed back against the throws and let her finger withdraw from his mouth. He gave her a dazzling smile. “I find Deal an immensely pleasurable town.”

  “We aim to please, my lord. Shall I demonstrate how accommodating we Dealites can be?”

  She began to undo the buttons of his jacket and waistcoat. She indicated he should help, and he rose enough for her to slip the garments off his shoulders and pull them off his arms. Then she tugged his shirt over his head. Her gaze fastened on his bare torso, and she tentatively raised her hand to brush her fingers lightly over his chest, tracing the curve and dip of bone and muscle. His stomach clenched as he tried to hold still, tried to stop himself from reaching for her. He almost broke when with a slight moan she bent her head and let her tongue taste him.

  He refused to give in to her torment. Closing his eyes he lay back, more than willing to indulge her. He was a consummate rake. He could control his passions when needed. At anytime he could reverse their positions.

  He inwardly smiled at her tentative strokes over his skin. She seemed fascinated with his ribs and stomach, her touch almost like she was worshipping him. He’d give her a few more strokes, then he’d switch places.

  He drew in a deep breath as her fingers grew bolder and trailed lower to pluck at the placket of his breeches. Despite his previous thought of taking control, he shifted to accommodate her small hand. He grew harder, if that was possible, and he wasn’t surprised when he felt air on the head of his lengthening shaft. With a mind of its own, there was no way it would not escape the confines of his clothing in its quest to be touched.

  She mocked his very thoughts. “Someone is keen to let me play.” One hand slipped inside the opening and touched him. He surged into her palm on a deep groan. Her other hand pushed and pulled his breeches apart. He lifted his hips to help her, all pretense of resisting gone under her arousing fingers.

  She smiled saucily and leaned forward until he felt her hot breath on his skin. He reached up and pulled the pins out of her hair, threading his fingers through the silken mass to let her tresses glide over his sensitized skin. His body was on fire. He burned for more.

  And she gave it. He came up off the floor as her lips touched the tip of his cock. She ran her tongue down the length of him and took one of his sacs into her mouth, rolling it around and licking it with her tongue. She nibbled back up the hard length of him, and he heard his own breathing grow louder.

  “Christ that feels so good. Take all of me—please ...”

  She lifted her head and gave him a victorious smile. There was something so erotic about her expression, with her lips glistening and puckered. He wanted to drag her down and kiss her senseless, but he’d rather she kissed another part of him altogether.

  “I like the taste of you. Hmmm, all man.” And she licked her lips.

  It was too much. Rufus cried out, arching up from the floor. “You’re driving me mad, Rheda. Please put me out of my misery, I’m begging you.”

  She hesitated for a split second, and he thought that perhaps she’d meant to only tease him. That she’d not meant to let her supposed seduction go so far.

  Then she bent and licked the tiny bead of moisture escaping from the tip of his member, and he was no longer capable of thought at all.

  Rheda reveled in the power she held over this strong, virile man. He didn’t appear to notice that she had no idea of what she was doing. She was simply giving in to her desires. The reality of the doing was very different from being a voyeur. It was infinitely more arousing.

  She let her mouth move over his skin, trailing kisses over his hip and down his thigh. She ran her tongue up the inside of his leg. He had a small mole near where his thigh joined his groin, and she kissed it tenderly.

  He was warm and alive under her mouth and more beautiful than anything she’d seen. Rheda sensed the raw power and strength of the man beneath her, and it thrilled her to her core knowing she was in control. He was at her mercy and loving every minute of it.

  The fact he wanted her was more exciting than she could have imagined. She swirled her tongue around the head of him. He was big, and he seemed to grow bigger with each touch of her lips. She had to open wide to take him completely into her mouth.

  His groans were intermingled with his rapid pants, and the more she suckled and caressed him, the hotter grew her own desires. She could picture stripping off her gown and pressing her hot skin to his roughness. The urge to make love with him, his hard length powering into her, giving her pleasure while taking his own, was all consuming.

  Only now did she fully understand why Daniel enjoyed “fishing” so much. For the first time she understood the command of lust and how it could be between a man and a woman. She was eager to partake in the feast.

  All thoughts of keeping him occupied until the shipment landed fled. She was on a knife’s edge, and at any moment she hoped to lose her balance and spiral out of control. All she wanted was him. And she was going to have him.

  Bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss. Pleasure like he’d never known before. Rufus was lost.

  How he’d ever thought of her as innocent ... Her skills were being clearly demonstrated. Each touch, each lick, each suck, almost unmanned him.

  He prayed for control. He felt her breath on his rigid shaft enticing his overheated and sensitized skin. She teased, playing him like an undisputed maestro. He wondered if he’d last much longer.

  She continued stroking with her tongue, delicate little licks, like a cat, before her hot, wet, mouth swallowed him whole. Her mouth was strong and purposeful as she suckled him.

  He was losing control, and he was normally always in control. He should put a stop to this and tumble her beneath him. Once on top he’d be the one driving her mad.
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br />   He gave a loud groan as she took him deeper into her mouth. Involuntarily, Rufus’s hips left the floor. Oh, yes, this is what he needed. He forgot all about dominating. He forgot all about finding her brother. All he focused on was pleasure. Just pleasure, pure and simple.

  Rheda knew she was approaching the point of no return. She was on the verge of combusting. The urge to rip her own clothes from her body and join with him was like a dose of poison ivy. The insistent need to scratch was tormenting her, but she’d only itch more once she let herself indulge.

  She was supposed to be in control. This craving wasn’t what she’d meant to happen.

  Was this how he’d felt as he’d given her pleasure? Wanting her while denying himself more. He’d had the strength to walk away. Would she?

  God, he was disciplined. She hoped she carried the same trait.

  Please, she prayed, let him finish before she gave in and lifted her gown and straddled his pulsing member.

  She knew he was close. His groans were escalating. His jaw was taut, and the pulse at his temple pounded. Rufus’s hips lifted, and he thrust himself deeper into her mouth. She clamped her lips firmly around him and suckled hard.

  His hands sunk deep in her hair, pulling tight. She ignored the pain as he gave one loud bellow, while trying to sit up and pull out of her mouth, but Rheda wouldn’t let go. She wanted to taste him. Wanted all of him, and she felt his hot seed pulse deep in the back of her throat—salty and delicious.

  Rufus collapsed back onto the throws, his eyes closed and his breath ragged in his throat.

  She pushed up off him with trembling hands. She licked her lips and swallowed. She’d won. She’d made him lose control while maintaining her own. If only it was as easy to make him divulge what he’d do to Dark Shadow if he found the mysterious smuggler. Would Rufus understand?

  She sat beside him, soaking in the beauty of him as he lay replete. His trousers were hanging open, his chest was covered in a fine sheen, and his stomach muscles contracted with each deep breath. She couldn’t help herself. She reached out and ran her fingers over his damp chest.