The Earl of London

by Louise Bay

  “Thank you, doctor,” Darcy said.

  “Yes, thanks,” I growled under my breath.

  As the door shut behind him, my grandmother patted my hand. “Darcy, will you please take my grandson home? I want to listen to the radio and then have a sleep.”

  I glanced at my watch. Where had the last five hours gone? “I won’t be any bother. I’ll just sit over there.” I pointed to the chair next to Darcy. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

  “You heard the doctor, Logan. I’ll be fine, and you can come back tomorrow morning.”

  Before I had a chance to reply the door swung open and an older woman in a nurse’s uniform bustled inside. “Right, visiting has been over for more than an hour. Please leave Mrs. Steele to rest.”

  My grandmother shot me an expression I’d seen a hundred times before. Usually when she’d warned me something would turn out badly, but I’d ignored her warning and slunk back with egg on my face.

  “You have your mobile, right?” Darcy asked my grandmother.

  “Is it charged?” I asked.

  My grandmother sighed. “Yes, it’s charged, and Darcy put the charger in my overnight bag, too.”

  I pulled out the phone and the charger from the small bag on the table beside the bed and turned up the volume.

  “We’re only fifteen minutes away, Logan, and your grandmother does need to rest. It’s been a stressful day,” Darcy said. “You can’t do anything constructive here and you’ll only make things worse by fussing.” As always, Darcy told it to me straight. Part of my frustration was the fact I was so helpless. But the last thing I wanted was for my stress to spill over and make my grandmother more anxious.

  I took a deep breath. Darcy was right. I should leave and maybe my grandmother could sleep. “And you’ll call me if you need anything?”

  “Yes, Logan. But I’ll be fine, especially knowing Darcy is looking after you.” My grandmother had great instincts about people and had instantly liked Darcy, making comments all the time regarding what a lovely girl she was. How capable, pretty and clever. None of it passed me by. I knew she wanted me to be happy, and thought me having a wife and family of my own would provide that.

  Although I’d never defined my success like that, I understood what my grandmother saw in Darcy. She was lovely and capable and clever. Not to mention sexy as hell and breathtakingly beautiful.

  “I’ll wait for you outside,” Darcy said.

  “No, you take him with you or I’ll never get rid of him,” my grandmother said, brushing my hands away.

  I chuckled and stood, leaning over the bed to kiss her on the forehead. “Try to behave and don’t give the nurses any trouble.” I glanced at the formidable woman standing at the end of the bed.

  “Stop fussing, Logan.”

  I would never stop fussing over her. She had been my world for as long as I could remember. “I love you, Granny,” I said.

  “I love you, too, my darling boy.”

  I blew her a kiss and headed out. Having to rely on others to take care of my grandmother wasn’t comfortable, wasn’t who I was, but making her happy by leaving was all I could do.

  Twenty-Three

  Darcy

  I’d never seen Logan Steele so vulnerable. So human. My heart ached a little for him and I hated myself for that. I needed to be building walls between me and this man, not have him smashing holes in my half-constructed ones.

  “You really think she’s going to be okay?” Logan asked as we headed out.

  I stared straight ahead as we headed to the car park, determined that his handsome face wouldn’t further melt my resolve. “I really do. Nothing was broken—this could have been a lot worse.”

  He nodded and scraped his hands through his hair. I imagined he struggled with the lack of control he had in situations like this. I’d felt that way when my grandfather had fallen and broken his hip.

  “I just wish I could fix it,” he said.

  I understood, and despite my disappointment in him, my instincts screamed at me to reach for him and provide him with some sort of comfort.

  “Thank you for being there. Were you at Badsley when it happened?”

  “No, but her nurse called me and I headed over.” I might be trying to protect myself from Logan Steele, but I was very fond of his grandmother, and frankly, anyone in need in the village would have received my full attention.

  “I appreciate it. I need to calm down. Distract myself. I know that you’re upset with me—”

  “Let’s just focus on your grandmother—she’s what’s important right now.” There was no point in rehashing what I already knew to be true. Logan Steele wanted to build on Badsley land at any cost. And I couldn’t live with that.

  The front doors slid open and we stepped into the chilly night. “I didn’t know about the appeal when we went on our date, Darcy. It’s important to me that you know that.”

  I sighed, wanting to avoid another discussion about this. “It doesn’t change anything.”

  “I found out just before you called that my head of development filed the paperwork on Friday.”

  I unlocked my Range Rover and headed to the driver’s seat without a word.

  Logan climbed in the passenger door and slammed it shut. “You don’t believe me?”

  “Are you withdrawing your appeal?” I knew that he wouldn’t, but I wanted him to understand that it didn’t matter if he hadn’t known about the appeal if the outcome was just the same.

  “I’m looking at several options.”

  “As I said, just because you didn’t know when it was lodged doesn’t change anything.”

  “Darcy, you know how important Manor House Club is to me. I’m not trying to upset you.”

  “But you have. Let’s drop it.”

  “So we can be friends?”

  I pulled out onto the main road and headed back to the village. I didn’t want to argue with Logan. He was clearly worried about Mrs. Steele, but at the same time I wasn’t about to tell him that appealing the planning decision was okay by me. Because it wasn’t.

  Silence swirled between us as I navigated the dark, twisty road.

  “You’ll come in?” Logan asked as I pulled up in front of Badsley House.

  “It’s been a long day—”

  “I know I have no right to ask. You’ve done more than enough already. But cooking relaxes me and I know I won’t bother if it’s just me. Can I make you an omelet or something?”

  I didn’t want to go in, but not because I was tired. My walls were crumbling. I needed reinforcements.

  “Come in and eat, Darcy.” He stroked his thumb across my cheek.

  “You’re so bossy,” I said.

  “And you like it,” he replied, clicking open his seat belt and then releasing mine.

  As much as I wanted to stay angry at him, he knew how to remind me of the Logan Steele that I liked. The way he made me melt like butter when he touched me. The way he took control in the bedroom. Those deep blue eyes that I so easily sank into. If only he wasn’t hell-bent on disrupting our beautiful village.

  “You’re going to wish you’d never invited me in, you know. Because, while you’re making omelets, I’m going to try to convince you that going another way with Manor House Club makes more sense.”

  He held the front door open and I stepped inside.

  “I look forward to it—as long as you remember it’s business, and not personal.”

  “Which means you make a decision based on business sense, rather than emotion.” I followed him into the kitchen and took a seat when he pulled out one of the pine chairs around the table.

  “Exactly,” he said, opening the wine fridge and pulling out a bottle. “If you come up with a better proposition for the development, then I want to hear about it.”

  “Really?” I held the stem of the glass he’d set in front of me as he poured out the wine. He hadn’t even asked me if I wanted a glass, but I did. Perhaps he could tell.

  “Real
ly.” He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair next to mine. “Like I said, it’s just business. Cheese?” he asked.

  “It’s not personal, it’s cheese?”

  He chuckled. “Christ, you’re adorable.” He bent and kissed me on the top of my head. “You want cheese in your omelet?”

  “Do you have peppers?” I asked.

  “I think so.” He took a sip of his wine and set it next to mine.

  “So let me give you all the business reasons why—”

  “I’d really like to hear more about why you personally are so against it. It doesn’t quite add up to me.”

  “I’ve been through this with you. The increased air pollution from the traffic, the divide it will create between members and non-members—”

  “Yes, I’ve heard all that. I don’t hear you in any of it.” He pulled eggs, cheese, peppers and an onion out of the fridge and set them on the counter. “You seem as determined to maintain Woolton in the same way as I was to buy Badsley House back.”

  “I agree. I’m at least as determined.”

  “So talk me about why it matters to you. You know how personal Badsley is to me.”

  Why was he being so difficult? I was giving him good, solid arguments. “I told you. I want to maintain the customs and traditions.”

  “And why are they so important to you?”

  “I’ve told you. I don’t understand why you keep asking the same question.” It was as if he were interrogating me. Perhaps he just wanted to be distracted from thoughts of his grandmother.

  He turned to me, looked at me intently. “Tell me your first memory of Woolton.”

  I sighed and slumped back in my chair. He wasn’t going to give up. “Probably Ryder and me down by the stream.”

  “How old were you?”

  I shrugged. “I must have been about five.”

  Logan chuckled. “And your parents let Ryder take you down to the river.”

  I tried to remember back to that time. “We had a lot of freedom at Woolton. We were visiting. Again. And we didn’t want to go home.” I smiled at the memory of feeling completely free. The sun speckling through the trees. The cool water of the stream as it ran over my toes. In all my memories of Woolton the sun always shone, and everyone was smiling and happy. “It was the first time I saw a dragonfly. Ryder told me that it was lucky and that if we made a wish, whatever we wished for would come true. I said my wish out loud. I wanted to stay at Woolton Hall forever.”

  “And your wish came true,” he said.

  “Yeah, for better or for worse.” Children shouldn’t wish their parents away, but I had, and more than that, I’d been more than happy when my wish had been granted.

  “For worse? I’ve never heard you say anything bad about Woolton.”

  “And I’m not now. But that time when our mother left us at Woolton, she didn’t come back. We didn’t see her again for two years.” Our mother would regularly dump us at Woolton Hall and go off on some mission to find her inner whatever. “Before that, it had been only a few weeks here or there. I don’t really remember. But that time she didn’t come back. And my wish came true.”

  “God, Darcy, I had no idea. Did you miss her?”

  Why was I talking about this? I was supposed to be convincing Logan that he should abandon his appeal. “No, I didn’t miss her. I had my grandparents and Woolton and the magic of the dragonflies and the endless summer days. I think maybe Ryder did. He was older and understood more about what was going on. And now, looking back, I realize I should have missed her more than I did.”

  “What about your father?”

  Logan’s question caught me a little off-guard. I never thought about him. “He left before that. Ryder doesn’t even remember him. I have no idea who he is.”

  Logan abandoned his cooking, wiped his hands on a cloth and came and sat opposite me. “I’m sorry. I think I assumed you lived this privileged life this whole time and—”

  “I did in many ways.” I picked up my glass of wine. “I had my brother and my grandparents. I didn’t lack for food or love and I grew up in this wonderful place.” I took a sip, wanting to clear my throat. “Ryder and I just had parents who didn’t want to be parents.”

  I tried to ignore the comfort that Logan’s hand on my leg provided. It was all so long ago, but I had forgotten about the dragonfly. And the wish. “Woolton is a magical place for me. It’s a place I’ve always felt safe in. The sense of community, the values…I’ve experienced places and people who don’t hold those things dear and I don’t want that for Woolton. I want the children who grow up here to think it’s magical too. To be dragged down to the stream by their big brothers to see dragonflies when they are too young. To have wishes come true. I want Woolton to be a place where everyone feels safe.” My voice began to crack and I swallowed.

  Logan pulled me onto his lap and brought his arms around me. “Now I get it. The village saved you, so now you’re all about saving the village.”

  I’d never thought about it like that, but he was right. I wanted to protect this place just like it had protected me.

  After a few moments, my stomach growled, filling the silence.

  “Come on, I owe you an omelet.”

  I wanted to stay in his arms, but food was a good second choice.

  “Do you need a hand?”

  “I think I can handle an omelet.”

  “You don’t seem like the kind of man who cooks.” I shifted my chair so I could stare at his broad back as he worked. His muscles bunched and released under his shirt, reminding me of how he’d moved when we’d slept together. How every touch had been so deliberate and calculated.

  “I enjoy it.”

  “I’d like to cook more,” I said. “I don’t get the chance much because it’s still very much Cook’s kitchen at Woolton.”

  He turned as he whisked the eggs with the fork. “You have a lot of staff, but it’s just you. Is that weird?”

  I shrugged. “It’s how I grew up, so I don’t really know anything else. And of course, Ryder and Scarlett come to stay every six weeks or so. The house is a lot busier then.”

  “But you can’t get into your own kitchen when you want to?”

  I wasn’t sure if he expected an answer, so I stayed quiet. He didn’t understand. It just was how it was done in big, old estates.

  “You can come cook here whenever you want.” He plated the omelet, which looked perfect. He’d even added some salad. Who was this guy?

  I picked up my fork as Logan sat in the chair next to mine. Our knees touched as he sat forward, but instead of moving away, I let myself enjoy it. His touch had a soothing and comforting quality that I wanted to indulge in a little.

  He sliced through the omelet with his fork. Last time we’d had dinner it had been at one of the best restaurants in London, and now here we were, eating omelets around his kitchen table. I wasn’t enjoying tonight any less, and I liked that he seemed equally as comfortable in both settings. He wasn’t one of those men who insisted on being treated like a king wherever he went.

  “I have to get to work over the weekend and end up with an alternative site for you,” I said.

  He chuckled, wiping the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “I look forward to that.”

  “You’re not the only one who’s tenacious, you know.”

  “I’m well aware.” He leaned back against his chair and slid his legs between mine.

  “The omelet was delicious.”

  “Something a little more sophisticated next time,” he said.

  I reached for his plate. “Let me—”

  “Absolutely not.” He stood, and before I could object had piled everything into the dishwasher.

  “I should go,” I said, the wooden legs of my chair scraping against the terra-cotta floor as I stood.

  In a second he was in front of me, his hands gripping my shoulders. Instinctively, I placed my hands flat against his hard chest, my gaze fixed to the triangle of e
xposed skin at his throat. He walked me back against the kitchen counter and I gasped when he lifted me onto the granite, but I didn’t resist. I wanted this. I wanted him.

  He looped his fingers through mine and leaned forward to capture my lips.

  His mouth was as warm and strong as I remembered. He transformed my thoughts from I-shouldn’t-be-doing-this into please-don’t-stop. He switched seamlessly from an enemy to a man I wanted naked and on top of me.

  Sliding his tongue between my lips, he groaned. Heat pulsed between my thighs both at his touch and at the idea that I could make him make those sounds. A man who must have had so many women was at my mercy.

  I tried to twist my fingers from his, but he growled, tightened his grip and pulled back to look at me. “Are you saying no?”

  “What? I—” I glanced at our joined hands. I wanted to run my fingers over his end of day scruff, trace a line over his collarbone. I wanted to touch him.

  “If you’re saying no, I’ll release you. But if you’re not, then I’m in charge—you know how this goes.”

  My skin tightened and my breath shortened. I did know how it went. And I liked it. More than liked it.

  Twenty-Four

  Logan

  Nothing about this day had turned out as I’d expected, but there was no better way to end it than in bed with my tongue in Darcy Westbury’s pussy. She might be spiky on the outside, but she was so fucking sweet on the inside.

  Going down on her could become an addiction.

  Despite her best efforts to stay still, and my hands curled around her waist, she bucked underneath me. So far, she’d managed to keep her hands above her head as I’d instructed.

  “Logan, please,” she cried out.

  I grinned. Begging me for release already?

  I flattened my tongue against her clit.

  “You want to come, baby,” I asked.

  “Don’t stop, please don’t stop. I’ll do anything. Please.”

  Jesus, her begging had my cock aching, and urging me to get her off and plunge inside. I resisted, took a steadying breath, and made long, steady strokes with my tongue, guaranteed to set her off. Her thighs began to tremble and her back arched as she screamed, “Oh. God. Logan.”