Two Shades of Seduction

by Monica Burns

  Before he could say another word, she brushed her brother’s cheek with her lips and hurried from the dining room. She really would have to take care with her words. It would be bad enough to arouse her father’s suspicions, but Spencer was far more observant where she was concerned. Sophie walked swiftly down the hall and entered her father’s study.

  Moving to the desk her father had told her to use so many years ago, she opened the ledger she’d left lying on top of the desk late last night. Finding the page she’d adjusted yesterday, her finger trailed down one of the columns in the green ledger before it stopped on one entry. There it was. The first of many entries that would help Devlyn regain his fortune.

  Her father had never tried to hide his illicit business dealings from her. The baron had needed someone to keep his secrets. Perhaps he’d just assumed Sophie would never consider doing what she was about to do. Refusing to dwell on the subject, she retrieved the latest duplicate ledger she kept tucked away among the older ledgers in the desk drawer.

  Sophie glanced over her shoulder to ensure the door was closed then began transferring information into the second set of books. If her father knew what her intentions were, he would do as Spencer had said earlier. He would beat her within an inch of her life. She pushed the thought aside. She was through hiding her father’s thievery. Tomorrow she’d offer Devlyn a taste of what he was to receive in exchange for giving her his name.

  Chapter 5

  Quentin stood on the edge of the glen, flanked by Caesar and Beast. The wolfhounds seemed to sense his irritation, and Beast used his large head to nudge at him. He absently patted the animal as his gaze scanned the tree line that separated his property from Townsend’s land.

  Since yesterday morning, a pair of hazel eyes and a heart-shaped face had persistently filled his thoughts. He really didn’t understand why Sophie fascinated him so much, but she did. Soft one moment and spirited the next. She was an enigma. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. Although he’d agreed to accept her offer, a small part of him still remained unconvinced that she wasn’t lying to him.

  It would be just like Townsend to use his daughter in an attempt to wreak more havoc. But a niggling notion deep inside refused to let him think Townsend had put Sophie in his path. The pain in her voice when she’d revealed how Eleanor and Townsend had betrayed her had been stark. The way her beautiful eyes had darkened with hurt was the primary reason he’d chosen to believe her. The real question was whether her pain was deep enough to make her betray her father?

  It didn’t help he was questioning his own part in a betrayal she might eventually regret. Quentin grunted with irritation. It was Sophie’s decision, not his. He wouldn’t push her to give him the means to destroy her father, but he wouldn’t refuse the information either.

  If she had any knowledge that would help him regain what Townsend had stolen, he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to take back what was rightfully his. Impatiently, his gaze scanned the tree line for some sign of Sophie. In an absent gesture, he rubbed the coarse fur of Caesar’s neck, only to have Beast nudge him again. He looked down at his companions.

  “What do you think? Am I mad to believe her?” Both of the animals looked up at him with their soulful eyes as if to say he knew better than to ask them such a question. His mouth twisted in a slight smile. “I have to give her credit for not being frightened of the two of you. There aren’t many women who would greet you the way Sophie did.”

  At the sound of Sophie’s name, Beast turned his head toward Townsend’s property as if he’d heard something, and Quentin followed the animal’s gaze. The empty landscape made disappointment lash at him. He berated himself. Why was he so desperate to believe Sophie really was everything she said she was? It was a question he didn’t have an answer to. Perhaps it was because he found her refreshing compared to all the other women he’d met in recent years.

  Over the past five years, his title had gained him entry to the most elite homes in New York and access to the wealthy businessmen who could help him rebuild his fortune. It had come at a price. He’d been subjected to more than one ambitious mother intent on acquiring a title for her daughter. Quentin had just never met a woman he found interesting enough to marry.

  Was that what drew him to Sophie? Was it because he found her interesting? Intriguing? For some intuitive reason, he was certain being married to Sophie would be far from boring. From just the few moments he’d spent in her company, it was clear she was intelligent, had a good sense of humor and wasn’t afraid to poke fun at herself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met a woman that beguiled him as much as Sophie.

  Even their kiss yesterday had surprised him. It had immediately made him want to carry her to his bed and keep her there. His cock twitched in his trousers as he remembered the heat of her mouth against his. She’d tasted delicious enough to eat. An erotic image took shape in his mind, and his groin tightened further. He grimaced.

  “Goddamnit. I had more self-control the first time I bedded a woman,” he muttered, disgusted by his inability to control his urges when it came to Sophie.

  He might have agreed to marry her, but that didn’t mean he had to act like a hot-blooded youth anxious for his first woman. Quentin pulled his watch out of his pocket to check the time. Twelve-fifteen. She was late. He tucked the timepiece back into his vest and raised his head to study the border of Townsend’s property.

  Jaw clenched, Quentin glared at the barren landscape. No doubt, she’d had second thoughts. Disappointment assailed him again before he dismissed the sensation. It only meant he didn’t like losing an opportunity to exact his revenge on Townsend. To hell with her. He turned around to stare at the large picnic basket sitting on the blanket he’d spread out on the glen’s rich green carpet of grass.

  A Townsend brat had played him for a fool once again. Quentin’s gritted his teeth. That he’d allowed himself to believe Sophie was different from her father and sister only served to fire his anger that much more. What the hell did it matter? The woman was hardly worth his time. Once more, a small voice inside him mocked his silent protests. With a grunt of anger, he strode back to the luncheon Cook had prepared. Caesar and Beast would feast on it like kings.

  No sooner had he reached the lunch blanket than he heard the muffled sound of horse hooves and jingling tack behind him. Quentin turned his head, and the sight of Sophie riding across the glen sent a surge of pleasure and relief crashing through him. Irritated at his reaction, he crushed the sensations as she drew her animal to a halt in front of him.

  She looked lovelier than yesterday with her flushed cheeks and sparkling gaze. Instantly his body tugged at him, demanding he satisfy the desire suddenly heating his blood. His reaction to her presence deepened Quentin’s anger at his lack of control. Thoroughly aggravated, he gripped the bridle of her horse in a tight, sharp movement to hold the animal steady, and the stallion tossed his head in protest.

  “Are you always so punctual, Miss Hamilton?” His harsh tone turned the soft pink in her cheeks to crimson before her mouth tightened with irritation.

  “I apologize for my late arrival, my lord, but it was necessary to take care leaving the house.” Her challenging look suddenly changed as she eyed him with amusement. “However, if I’d known you were that impatient to see me, perhaps I should have delayed my arrival for much longer.”

  For a moment, he stared up at her in astonishment. Unabashed amusement sparkled in her hazel eyes, and his annoyance evaporated in one brief instant. She clearly had no intention of letting him intimidate her, and he liked her all the more for it. Quentin released the bridle of Sophie’s horse and extended his arms in anticipation of helping her dismount.

  “Come, lunch is ready,” he said as he waited for her to accept his offer of assistance. She hesitated slightly, and he grinned. “I promise not to eat you, Sophie. At least not yet.”

  “Your attempts to alarm me fall on deaf ears, my lord,” she said in a straightlaced voice
as she leaned forward to place her hands on his shoulders.

  The moment she braced her hands against him, Quentin’s muscles grew taut. With great ease, he lifted her off the horse, enjoying the way her soft body slid downward over his. The light scent of lemongrass filled his nostrils, while her sensuous curves made his fingers tingle with an urgent need to explore more of her than just the curve of her waist.

  “I think perhaps you should call me Quentin,” he murmured, suddenly eager to hear her say his name.

  “That’s hardly appropriate at this point in our…our bargain.”

  “Actually, I think it quite appropriate. Since our bargain involves initiating you in the pleasures of the flesh, I fully expect you to say my name with great excitement in the near future.”

  His words pulled a small gasp from her as she jerked her head back to study him in silence. Trepidation, excitement, and expectation flitted across her features in rapid succession. Instantly, Quentin’s body tightened with arousal. His gaze searched her face before focusing on the dainty lobe of her ear. Unable to resist, he dipped his head to nibble on the plump flesh.

  “Say my name, Sophie,” he said softly as an incoherent sound escaped her lips.

  “Quentin…please…” The way she breathed his name made his cock stiffen in his trousers. Christ Jesus, but she was a tempting morsel.

  “If you beg as sweetly in my bed as you did just now, I’m certain we’ll suit each other quite nicely.” He smiled as another inarticulate sound escaped her. “In fact, I’m almost of a mind to forego lunch and have my dessert now.”

  She shuddered against him, and he wasn’t sure whether it was with excitement or fear. He raised his head to meet her hazel-eyed gaze. Flecks of gold shimmered in her eyes as she pushed her way out of his arms. He allowed her to ease out of his embrace with a deliberate slowness that made it clear he could have easily kept her in his arms. She quickly put several feet between them. Pink color high in her cheeks, she eyed him warily. He gestured toward the luncheon basket.

  “Which shall it be? Lunch or dessert,” he teased. Sophie hesitated, and his body grew taut as he realized how much he wanted her to say dessert.

  “I prefer to save dessert for last. Anticipation is a large part of pleasure, isn’t it?” Her smile was without artifice, but there was a hint of flirtation in the curve of her lip.

  The power of Sophie’s smile slammed into him with an unexpected force. Quentin sucked in a sharp breath at his reaction before he quickly turned away to lead her horse to a nearby shrub. It gave him time to reconcile his reaction to Sophie’s smile with the lust she incited in him. The woman was a natural seductress.

  Not about to let his desire rule his head, he quickly twisted the horse’s leather reins around a branch to ensure the animal wouldn’t bolt. Quentin turned to see Sophie bent over the wolfhounds. Beast was already on his back begging her to scratch his belly, while Caesar was trying to lick her face. She’d conquered them already. The small scene reminded him of a time when he’d watched his mother playing with the new puppy his father brought home. It was a bittersweet memory that tightened his jaw with tension.

  “Beast. Caesar. Enough.” The dogs immediately came to attention at the stern note in his voice. Sophie smiled up at him.

  “They’re quite playful. Which one is which?” she asked.

  “Beast is the gray. Caesar is the sandy-colored one.”

  She gave both animals one last caress then turned and followed him to the picnic blanket. She waited just on the edge of the spread, her fingers clenching the riding gloves she’d removed. Not waiting on her, he sank down onto his knees and sat back on his heels, watching her with an amused smile. She frowned and stared at him from edge of the checkered coverlet spread out on the grass.

  “Your manners are appalling, my lord,” she snapped. “You could have at least offered me your hand.”

  “Forgive me, my lady,” he said with amusement.

  In a split second, he grasped her wrist and pulled her downward. A soft cry of surprise escaped her lovely mouth as she tumbled into his arms. The sound made him chuckle as he resisted the temptation to press her backward into the blanket then kiss her until her glare was one of desire.

  “You make it difficult to forgive you, my lord,” she huffed.

  “Do I?” He arched an eyebrow at her and grinned, thoroughly enjoying the way she bristled at his teasing.

  “You would not be laughing at me otherwise,” she snapped. There was a sudden glimmer of pain in her eyes that made Quentin frown.

  “I’m not making fun of you, Sophie,” he said quietly and grazed her cheek with his forefinger. “I might lack refinement at times, but I have no wish to injure your feelings.”

  The shadow of pain slowly faded from her gaze, and it sent a bolt of relief through him. His insides knotted up at how easily Sophie held his senses captive. With a small grimace, he helped her take a seat next to him on the large blanket. Suddenly eager to see her smile again, he gestured toward the covered dishes he’d brought with them.

  “Cook prepared cold chicken, cheeses, bread, and an apple pie for desert.”

  “Shall I serve?” she asked with a small smile.

  “By all means. Of course I’d much rather have you for lunch.” Quentin eyed her with amusement as she flushed beneath his gaze. Despite the lovely shade of pink filling her cheeks, she didn’t hesitate with her reply.

  “I fear you’d suffer from indigestion, my lord.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.” He laughed. “In fact, I’m certain I’ll find you a tasty morsel.”

  “I thought we were here to get to know each other,” she said in a prim tone of voice designed to put him off. “A speedy courtship to convince everyone we are suitable for each other.”

  “Would you prefer I simply forego any pretense of courtship and anticipate the marriage bed and all its sinful pleasures?”

  For a moment, she stared at him aghast. Then to his surprise, she laughed. It was a robust and musical sound, and Quentin found it quite pleasant to his ears. She shook her head and directed a skeptical smile at him.

  “You really are a rogue. I think you’re deliberately trying to shock me.”

  “I simply speak my mind. The thought of bedding you is one I’ve contemplated quite a bit since our kiss yesterday,” he said as he looked down at the plate she’d handed him.

  The telltale hiss of her sucking in a sharp breath made him suppress a smile as he bit into a chunk of cheese. He lifted his head to see her studying her plate of food. From the color riding high in her cheeks, he was certain their kiss had been a source of contemplation for her as well. The thought pleased him, almost as much as the thought of hearing her moan softly into his mouth.

  His gaze met hers as he picked up a piece of cheese and slowly bit into it. She quickly looked away to continue eating her meal in silence. Amused, he took a swig of wine, studying Sophie over the rim of his cup. It was obvious she enjoyed the meal. Unlike many women he’d met, she didn’t eat like a sparrow. He’d always liked his women softly rounded.

  Setting his plate aside on the blanket, yet well within his reach, Quentin stretched out his legs and reclined back on one elbow. Determined to learn more about the enigmatic woman he was to marry, he nodded toward the white stallion tied to a nearby bush.

  “You ride well. There aren’t many women who can handle a horse of that size.” At his compliment, a mixture of surprise and delight swept across her heart-shaped face.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly as she looked at the horse and a brief glimmer of fear shone in her hazel eyes. “Augustus is one of the few pleasures in my life. I would hate to lose him.”

  “Lose him?”

  “My father…if he knew how much I loved Augustus, he’d quickly find a buyer for Augustus.”

  “I see. Then I’ll make arrangements to buy the animal for you through an agent,” he said quietly, well aware his funds were limited until the steel from his mill in America reached the
London docks.

  “You would do that?” she asked with a soft gasp as joy swept across her lovely features.

  “Consider it a wedding present.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said as she leaned forward and squeezed his hand.

  The heartfelt emotion in her voice and touch made Quentin stiffen as he realized how much he enjoyed making her happy. The knowledge sounded an alarm in his head which he silenced with a healthy dose of scornful mockery. He had no illusions about his impending nuptials. It was a business arrangement that would afford him the pleasure of indulging himself with Sophie, while destroying the man who’d taken everything from him.

  Quentin’s mouth tightened with repressed anger at the thought of the baron. His gaze fell on Sophie again as she took a sip of wine from the tin cup Cook had packed with their picnic. Sophie had indicated her father had betrayed her, but something about her response seconds ago told him there was more to Sophie’s story than she’d revealed.

  “Are you certain you wish to give me your father’s books?”

  Quentin bit down on the inside of his cheek. What the hell was he thinking? She was going to give him the means to destroy Townsend. Why in god’s name would he offer her a chance to retract her offer? Sophie’s gaze met his and she nodded.

  “Yes.” Her eyes darkened with pain despite the firm reply.

  “I’m surprised your father isn’t as devoted to you as he is to Eleanor.”

  “He’s not…my father loved my stepmother very much,” Sophie said as she turned her head away in an obvious attempt to hide her expression. “Eleanor looks like her, and it’s understandable why he is devoted to her.”

  “You must look like your mother. You certainly don’t resemble Townsend,” he said quietly.

  “No, I don’t…I don’t look like him at all.” The slight hesitation in her response made Quentin eye her with curiosity.

  “And he’s made you pay a price for not looking like him.”