For the Duke's Eyes Only (School for Dukes #2)

by Lenora Bell

  She wriggled her shoulders and thrust out her chest. “I should practice playing the helpless female, fluttering my lashes, exposing my décolletage, and saying flattering things. Insinuating myself into a man’s confidence, all the while asking probing questions.”

  Exposing. Insinuating. Probing.

  These were not things he wanted Indy to be doing.

  Or things he wanted to do to Indy.

  He cleared his throat. “You possess more feminine wiles than you may be aware of and you really don’t need to practice. In fact, what you should do is get some sleep so that you’re well-rested for tomorrow’s adventures.”

  “I think I do need practice.” She moved closer, widening her eyes and . . . damn it . . . fluttering her long, black eyelashes. “Now I’m going to give you a searing glance that is supposed to communicate that I’m picturing you entirely naked. Which should elicit a reciprocal imagining on your part.”

  She gave him a searing glance.

  “Did it work?” she asked.

  He gulped, unable to form words. He was still imagining her completely naked, wearing only the Wish Diamond around her neck, nestled between her sumptuous breasts. He’d also imagined grabbing her by the waist, flinging her over his shoulder, and carrying her to the velvet-curtained bed, which suddenly seemed to occupy most of the room.

  Bed. Indy.

  Bad combination.

  “I’ll take your silence and labored breathing as a yes,” she said triumphantly.

  “Why don’t you take yourself back to your room,” he managed to say.

  “I’m not finished practicing yet. I must move slowly, sensuously. Nothing too brusque or bold. A coy glance, like this. I’ve seen how courtesans behave. I’d show a little bit of flesh. Not too much. Just enough to tantalize.” She slipped her sleeve off her shoulder.

  She shimmied her shoulders and the other sleeve slid down as well, exposing her chemise and the upper curves of her breasts.

  He dragged in a breath. “That’s enough, Indy.”

  “I won’t go too far, don’t worry. Only to the . . . edge.” Her gown slipped lower, her breasts nearly exposed now, the fabric caught on her nipples. She shivered, her nipples stiffening.

  He couldn’t take his eyes away from her.

  “You’re still upset with me for leaving without telling you where I was going. You’re punishing me,” he said. “Showing me that you’re in control.”

  “Am I? Does this feel like a punishment?”

  If the sight of her breasts straining over her low-cut corset was a punishment, then he’d been a very bad rogue and he’d pay penance for the rest of his life.

  He licked his lips. “Indy, I don’t think you require lessons in seduction. You’re a natural. You could teach a master class.”

  “Then perhaps you should wear the diamond instead.” She unclasped the necklace and draped it around his neck.

  She was so near now that he could smell her perfume. Raven’s entire body lit like a lamp wick touched by a flame.

  “It . . . doesn’t fit around your neck,” she said, biting her full lower lip.

  Her arms circled his neck, and her forearms rested on his shoulders. Her luscious lips were so close. Her pupils dilated, her eyes smoky.

  “The diamond will look so much better against your décolletage than my chest.” He moved the necklace back to her neck and fastening the clasp. He arranged the diamond over her breastbone.

  It occurred to him that she wasn’t wearing the copper Minerva coin around her neck anymore.

  At least she wore the Wish Diamond. At least he could give her a lavish gift to make up for the hurt he’d caused. After they found the stone and left Paris, he’d give her the diamond. She’d probably donate it to a museum but he would always have this memory.

  The pale purple diamond flickering with light, reflected in her eyes.

  His fingers didn’t want to leave her skin.

  “Will I be enough of an enticement?” she asked.

  “You’d give a marble statue a cock-stand, Indy.”

  She chuckled. “Is that right?” Her gaze traveled down his body.

  He didn’t even attempt to hide the power she held over him. The silk robe had parted to reveal his linen pantaloons, which were fitting very snugly at the moment.

  “Now, listen here,” she said, tilting her head down. “We need to have a chat.”

  Was she talking to his cock?

  “Women are good for so much more than bedfellows alone. I know that’s all you’re interested in, but your master does possess an intellect, however diminished by debaucherous pursuits, and he must learn to treat females as equals and include them in his plans and speak to them as more than just ornaments. He mustn’t make decisions on their behalf.”

  She lifted her head and smiled devastatingly. “Men are always underestimating me.” She moved away, the smile dropping from her lips. “Don’t make that mistake again, Raven.”

  So this had all been a lesson. She’d been toying with him. “Believe me, I won’t.”

  He’d never underestimated her. He’d had to hide his admiration and respect. He’d been cheering for her this whole time, exulting in every one of her achievements.

  “All I want from you is your respect,” she said. “Stop treating me like a female to shelter and protect, and treat me as an equal partner.

  “Equal partner. Understood. Er, the valet will be here any moment. I think I should have a moment to . . .” He waved a hand at his genitals. “Compose myself.”

  She smiled wickedly.

  Gods. Not another wicked smile. She had to leave.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Too late,” she whispered, and dashed toward the large oak wardrobe, climbing inside and pulling the door closed.

  Perfect. Now he had a stiff cock, a voluptuous woman hidden in his wardrobe, and a valet who was here to disrobe him.

  “Enter,” Raven called. He’d make sure the encounter was brief.

  “Good evening, Your Grace.”

  “Harris.”

  “I’ve come to fit you for your evening wear, and I’ll be happy to perform any other little duties you may require, since you’ve not brought you own valet.”

  There’s a whip-brained bonfire of a seductress in my wardrobe. Would you mind taking her away and giving her a good dousing with ice-cold water before she burns the house down?

  Harris held up a measuring tape. “May I take your measurements?”

  Raven was about to send the man packing when a roguish thought occurred to him. Indy had been teaching him a lesson.

  Perhaps it was time he taught her one as well. A lesson about hiding in wardrobes.

  “By all means.” Raven shed the silk robe and flung it over a chair back.

  Next he lifted his shirt over his head.

  Harris approached. “If you’ll just lift your arms, Your Grace.”

  “Happy to.” He stood, legs and arms spread wide, in full view of the wardrobe.

  The valet began measuring his shoulders and back.

  She’d played him just now, deliberately teased him and seduced him.

  Two could play that game.

  If she wanted a private show . . . he’d give her one.

  Indy had an excellent view through the keyhole of the wardrobe. In her crouched position she was right at eye level with Raven’s nether regions.

  The valet unbuttoned Raven’s trousers with practiced movements and Raven stepped out of them.

  Rather suspicious how his crotch was so perfectly framed in her view. Had he moved closer and turned his body in just the right way to give her a show?

  She could clearly see the outline of his formidable male organ through the thin cotton of his undergarments.

  The valet made his measurements, reciting numbers that made her head spin a little.

  Goodness his thighs were massive. And the vast length of his arm span . . . and the thickness of his neck.

  If he were
a statue in a museum she would examine him unabashed. Think of him as marble. Think of him as . . . well, that wasn’t bloody well going to work. She couldn’t think of him as anything but Raven, the man she wanted to seduce.

  There, she’d admitted it. All of that practicing her feminine wiles so she’d be able to question Russian ambassadors and French criminals.

  That had all been about seducing Raven.

  Because she always felt so off-balance around him. She wanted him so badly and he remained impassive. She wanted him to lose control again, as he had in Edgar’s study and in the carriage. If he lost control, then she wouldn’t have to abandon her own tenuous hold on propriety.

  She could be the ravished one, the one who kept her integrity and her boundaries and her emotional distance.

  The valet moved behind him, measuring his back.

  My word, the muscles in Raven’s stomach. What did he do to keep so fit and firm?

  One, two, three . . . six ridges of hard muscle rippling down his narrow waist and over the base of his abdomen.

  The scars on his chest lent him a dangerous air. She wondered again how he’d ended up with those scars.

  The scars led her on a trail across his taut stomach and down to his thinly covered shaft again. Had it swollen in size? She stared in amazement. His male organ appeared to be . . . was it twitching?

  She tore her gaze away from his crotch.

  A disastrous mistake. He was staring directly at the keyhole. He knew she was watching. This was all a show, for her eyes only.

  The valet was still measuring his back, oblivious to the game Raven played.

  Raven winked at her.

  She jerked her head back, muffling a curse as a heavy woolen garment fell on her head.

  “Did you hear something, Your Grace?” asked the valet.

  “Perhaps a rat in the walls?” suggested Raven.

  Oh ha ha. Very funny.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time, Your Grace. These drafty old Parisian houses . . . I do long for the day when Sir Charles will take up residence in England again.”

  Indy leant forward again, daring another look.

  Raven’s hand brushed his thigh. A light touch where her fingers wanted to roam. It was unbearably erotic, being enclosed in the warm, dark womb of the wardrobe and watching him tease her so shamelessly.

  It was like one of her dreams.

  But in her dream the valet would leave and then Raven would pull down his smalls and he’d . . . he’d cup himself with his hand and . . . pleasure himself.

  Don’t imagine it. Stop that immediately.

  The valet didn’t even notice anything odd. He went about his business of measuring.

  Raven stared directly at the wardrobe. He knew she was watching. He trailed his fingers down over his taut abdomen, beneath the loose waistband of his smalls . . . exposing a trail of dark hair that led . . .

  She was beginning to feel slightly faint. It must be all the wool. The air was too close in the wardrobe.

  “I’ve taken all the measurements,” said the valet. “I’ll have your garments delivered tomorrow by mid-afternoon.”

  Raven nodded and the valet left the room.

  Raven moved out of eyesight. She was about to open the door when she heard Sir Charles’s deep voice.

  Bollocks! The wool draped around her head and over her shoulders was making her feel like sneezing, and now she must remain completely silent.

  “Did Harris see to your clothing for tomorrow?” she heard Sir Charles ask.

  She peered through the keyhole but couldn’t see them. They must be near the door.

  “I’ll be presentable,” Raven answered. “Let’s talk tomorrow, shall we? I’m tired.”

  Raven tried to dismiss Sir Charles, but the man lingered. Indy noticed that he was slurring his words, which led her to surmise that he must be inebriated.

  “You’re not turning in already, old friend?” asked Sir Charles. “You’re really no fun anymore. Come out with me. We’ll visit a certain establishment I know will restore your vigor.”

  “You go. I need my beauty rest.”

  The voices faded as if Raven had led Sir Charles out of the room. Now was her chance to escape. There was very little air in this tiny space with coats and hung all around.

  She tried to open the door of the wardrobe but it wouldn’t budge. Must not be able to open it from the inside. She’d have to wait for Raven.

  No, she never waited for anyone. She could find a way out of this predicament. Raven might have trouble convincing Sir Charles to leave and she needed more air.

  She worked a few of her metal hairpins loose from her coiffure. She’d read about how one might be able to open a lock with a hairpin.

  She wiggled the hairpin around in the lock and the only thing that happened was that the end broke off. Finding a few more hairpins, she put them together to make something thicker and jiggled the end around.

  Something was happening. The end of the hairpin caught a piece of the lock and she heard a promising click. If she could only . . . push a little harder. The lock finally released.

  She tested the door. It moved a little. Placing her entire shoulder against it she heaved with all her might and . . . tumbled directly into Raven’s arms.

  He must have opened the door from the outside at the same time she was pushing against it.

  “Oof,” she said as his arms wrapped around her and held her against his lean, hard frame.

  Chapter 16

  Indy in his arms. Right where she belonged.

  She didn’t attempt to right herself; she held still, balanced against him, her arms around his neck. His arms around her waist. Right where they belonged.

  “Is Sir Charles gone?” she whispered.

  Raven nodded, not trusting his voice to make much more than an awkward croaking sound.

  “You were teasing me,” she admonished, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. “I know several ladies who would pay a small fortune to watch you strip off your clothing.”

  That made him smile. Her gaze was light, teasing, and sensual.

  “You liked the show, did you?”

  “It was entertaining.” Her gaze flicked to his lips.

  When he had her in his arms there was nothing on earth, no loyalty, no duty that could keep him from taking anything she’d be willing and eager to give him. Right now all he wanted to do was cup her bum and lift her.

  Wrap her long legs around his hips and back her up against a wall.

  “You didn’t have to watch,” he said. “You could have closed your eyes.”

  “I wanted to watch. It was quite stimulating.”

  She fit her hips to his hips, her weight supported by his chest and thighs.

  “There was one part of you the valet neglected to measure,” she murmured in the sexiest, huskiest voice he’d ever heard. “Too bad he didn’t leave his tape or I might be tempted to remedy his omission.”

  “Indy,” he groaned. “Don’t say things like that. You’ll be my downfall.”

  “What I want to know is whether these,” she brushed her fingertips lightly over the waistband of his smalls, “might be convinced to fall down.”

  What was he supposed to do, tell her he would never drop his smalls for her? That was a lie. He’d do whatever she wanted if it meant he could continue holding her like this.

  Her hips against his hips.

  Her breasts crushed against his chest.

  “I’m yours to command, Indy,” he said.

  “Finish the show. Drop your undergarments,” she growled.

  He grinned. “Why, are you going to ravish me?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, with the most devastatingly provocative smile he’d ever seen.

  And just like that, his scruples ran for the hills, abandoning him completely.

  Duty be damned. Honor be hanged. He’d risk everything for one more taste of her lips.

  “Then let’s move over by the fire. It’s to
o cold here.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her across the room, his eyes never leaving her face.

  If she hesitated, if a shadow crossed her eyes, he was fully prepared to end the encounter before it began. But that teasing smile remained on her lips and her gaze was warm with desire.

  He’d locked the door after Sir Charles left. They wouldn’t be disturbed.

  He laid her down on hearth rug and knelt in front of her. He unlaced her boots and set them aside.

  “May I remove your gown?” he asked reverently.

  She answered by reaching for the hem of her gown and lifting it over her shoulders in one practiced wriggling movement.

  He loosened her corset, lifting it over her head, and then removed her petticoats. Now she wore only a short cotton shift and the Wish Diamond at her throat, the light purple color reflected in her eyes.

  His wildest fantasy come to glorious life.

  She slipped her shift down her shoulders, exposing her full breasts and her dark rose-colored nipples.

  He’d been trained in the art of seduction.

  She had no need for training. She seduced him with every breath she took.

  She did something to her hair and suddenly it was tumbling down over her shoulders, spreading in waves over the red of the rug, catching the firelight and glinting with blue black.

  He rose to his feet and stood over her for a moment, drinking in the sight of her. Long, black hair and sensuous red lips. Rounded breasts and long, long limbs. Arrayed in front of the flickering fire for him.

  The most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  He didn’t touch her, not yet. Simply feasted his eyes on the swell of her breasts, on the swooping indentation of her waist. The bunched-up shift covered her only from her hips to mid-thigh.

  Her gaze slid down his body. “Didn’t I tell you to drop your undergarments?”

  Slowly, teasingly, he undid the buttons of his smalls.

  She watched his movements with a rapt expression, her eyes half lidded and smoky.

  He pushed the garment down his abdomen, past his hips, over his thick, hard cock, until he stood completely naked.

  She licked her lips, staring at his cock. “Now that’s what I call a good show.”

  He fell to his knees and covered her with his body. He needed to feel her soft breasts against his chest. Her hips cushioning him.