When His Kiss Is Wicked

by Kaitlin O'Riley

  Sleepless nights and tormented dreams had plagued her ever since he had kissed her. She had not seen Lucien since that night and almost felt relieved. Almost. What would she do when she saw him next? Surely they would meet again. She had been half hoping he would visit the bookshop to see her. But he had not come. So she was left on needles and pins wondering what would happen when they saw each other again.

  Suddenly noticing the puzzled looks on her sisters’ faces, she recalled that she was expected to participate in the discussion, and she dragged her thoughts from the seductive Lucien Sinclair and forced herself to focus all her attention on the group. An hour later, after much conversation, debate, and laughter, Miss Benson, Miss Rutan, and Mrs. Cornell declared the group a success and promised to come again next month and more importantly, to bring their friends with them.

  “Will you be joining us again next month when we discuss Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, Lord Eddington?” Mrs. Cornell asked him with a flirtatious batting of her eyelashes that astonished Colette.

  “I would never pass up an opportunity to spend an evening in the company of such beautiful women.” His good looks and magnetic charm had enraptured the women and left them giggling as they exited the shop.

  Now alone with the Hamilton sisters, Lord Eddington commented, “My God, you four girls look remarkably alike.”

  “We know,” they all stated in unison.

  Lord Eddington laughed in amusement. “There is one sister missing, is there not?”

  “Yvette. She’s the youngest, and Mother said she was not old enough to join us. Not that she would understand the discussion anyway, even if she did attend,” Paulette explained with the sophisticated air of a sibling only slightly older yet far superior to her younger sister.

  “I would like to meet your youngest sister,” Jeffrey said, still staring at them in amazement, “as well as your mother sometime.”

  “Perhaps you will,” Colette said, somewhat confounded by his sudden interest in her family.

  Lisette spoke up. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lord Eddington. You made our first book group discussion quite memorable.”

  “I enjoyed it myself. You ladies definitely gave me some ideas to ponder.”

  “Come, Paulette, it is past time we went upstairs,” Lisette suggested. “Good night, Lord Eddington.”

  “Good night, Miss Hamilton, and Miss Hamilton.”

  Giggling at Jeffrey’s teasing, Paulette helped Lisette gather up the remains of the refreshments and headed back upstairs. Colette began to remove the chairs from the circle.

  “Here, allow me do that.” Lord Eddington took a chair from Colette’s hands. “Just tell me where you want this. Against the wall?”

  Colette nodded as he went to work, then she and Juliette exchanged curious glances.

  “You’re not impressing us,” Juliette called to him.

  “I’m simply being a gentleman.” He grinned slyly. “I can be one when it suits me.”

  Juliette rolled her eyes at him, but admitted grudgingly, “I did not think you would have the nerve to actually join us.”

  “How could I possibly turn down an invitation from you, my lovely Juliette? Besides, I wished to take a look at your shop for myself, and what better way is there than to spend the evening with beautiful women?”

  “Well, you did lend an air of excitement to our little group,” Colette admitted, surprised by the success of her first literary discussion.

  “I thought so, too,” he boasted with a devilish grin. “Excitement is my specialty, you know. Now, ladies, how else can I be of help to you?”

  “There is nothing else to be done, but thank you for offering,” Colette replied.

  “Well, then, I should be going. Thank you both for a most interesting evening. I rather enjoyed myself more than I thought I would. Shall I see you next at Lady Boswell’s party tomorrow night?”

  “I suppose so,” Colette murmured.

  As he gathered up his coat and hat, they bid him good-bye and watched as he left. Colette locked the shop door behind him and pulled down the shade.

  “Now why do you suppose he came here tonight?” she asked her sister.

  Juliette laughed and crossed her arms over her chest. “To prove me wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At Lord Hutton’s party I made a remark to him that I didn’t think he ever took anything seriously. So when he learned of the book group, he stopped by to show me that he could be serious.”

  Pondering this, Colette shook her head. A man like Jeffrey Eddington did not attend a ladies’ literary discussion group without a good cause for motivation. “No, I don’t think that’s it. I think he is a little sweet on you, Juliette, and he’s trying to win you over.”

  Juliette laughed outright. “No one tries to win me over! If anything, he’s sweet on you, and he’s trying to win you over!”

  Now it was Colette’s turn to laugh. “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Is it?” Juliette gave her a knowing look, turned, and made her way upstairs, leaving Colette stunned.

  Chapter Eight

  Let the Games Begin

  Lucien smiled good-naturedly as he laid his cards on the table. Four aces. His friends groaned when they saw his winning poker hand. “And that’s the game.”

  “Doesn’t that beat all?” Lord James Buckley complained with a desperate frown. “How do you always manage to win, Waverly?”

  “Just born lucky, I guess.” Lucien grinned as he collected his considerable winnings from the center of the table. It wasn’t as if he needed the money. Lucien just liked to play cards and spend time with his friends. Not since his father’s apoplectic sickness began had he hosted a night of cards.

  “He gets all the cards and all the women,” Buckley muttered to the others, his thin face narrowed in dissatisfaction. “It’s not fair.”

  “Fair enough,” Jeffrey Eddington responded cryptically, collecting the cards from the table. He shuffled them effortlessly and they began another hand.

  They had recently learned to play poker, a distinctly American card game, from their friend Harrison Fleming, who had visited New Orleans the year before, and they had been playing it ever since.

  “I think Waverly’s luck may have just run out,” Eddington continued, dealing the cards with efficient speed and practiced skill.

  “What do you mean?” Thomas Hargrove asked eagerly, puffing on his cigar, the smoke filling Lucien Sinclair’s study with a tangy cloud.

  Eddington turned to Lucien and raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell them or should I?”

  Lucien shrugged, picking up his cards from the table. He honestly didn’t want to discuss the matter, but now that Jeffrey brought it up, he was sure to have no peace until he confessed his plan. “It seems I’m finally going to settle down and choose a bride.”

  Buckley and Hargrove’s riotous questions erupted in the smoke-filled room.

  “You’re jesting!”

  “Why would you do it now?”

  “Who is she?”

  “Yes, who is the lucky girl?”

  Lucien breathed deeply. “I have a young woman in mind and have not asked her yet, but I plan to. I’d like to be married as soon as possible.”

  Buckley cried out in surprise, “Good God, man, you can’t mean to leg-shackle yourself so soon!”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you, Lucien?” Hargrove questioned, his face full of astonishment.

  “Yes, I am.” Lucien left it at that.

  “So tell us who she is,” Eddington said with a distinct gleam in his eye.

  Lucien offered, “You’ll know when the time comes.”

  “He’s being mysterious,” Eddington declared.

  Lucien shrugged as the poker game continued, ignoring the continued requests for more information. They would learn it all soon enough. In the meantime, Lucien intended to pursue Lady Faith Bromleigh in the proper manner.

  After another two hours, he col
lected his considerable profits and the game ended for the night. Before Buckley could leave, Lucien discreetly slipped him his winnings.

  “This is the last time I will play with you, Buckley. Use this to pay off some of your debts.” Lucien could not bear the grateful look on his friend’s face.

  “I can’t take this from you, Lucien,” Buckley mumbled. “I owe you money.”

  Yes, Buckley owed him money. A great deal, actually. But Lucien also knew that Buckley was in very deep trouble and in danger of losing his house. He hated to see his friend, whom he had known for years, in such dire straits, even if it was due to his own weakness and poor judgment.

  “Stop gambling,” Lucien told Buckley in a tone that left no doubt as to his feelings on the matter. “You can no longer afford it.”

  “Thank you. I will pay you back, I swear it.” Looking abashed, Buckley nodded sadly. He did not hesitate as he pocketed the money before he exited the room.

  With just Eddington left, Lucien walked to the sideboard and poured them each another glass of fine scotch whisky from a crystal decanter.

  “You shouldn’t give him any more money, Lucien,” Jeffrey stated simply, accepting the glass of whisky Lucien handed him.

  “You saw that, did you?”

  “Yes, and it’s a waste of good cash.”

  Lucien sat in the rich brown leather wingchair opposite Jeffrey in front of the fireplace. The orange flames crackled and cast shadows across the room. “I realize I shouldn’t. But I also know he needs it.”

  “Don’t misunderstand me, I like Buckley, too, but he owes money all over town. He’s a grown man, for Christ’s sake. He should know better. If he can’t afford to lose, he shouldn’t play. You’re only prolonging the inevitable by helping him out.”

  Lucien nodded, knowing that Jeffrey was correct in his assessment of Buckley. Still, Lucien couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Buckley was in for a humiliating downfall one of these days. And more than likely sooner than he expected. Lucien shook his head before taking a sip of the whisky. “Have you been given a new assignment yet?” he asked.

  Behind Jeffrey’s indolent and womanizing reputation, there hid a strength of character few would ever suspect him of possessing. For the past few years he had taken on a position with the British government. Aside from Lucien, no one had any idea of Jeffrey’s clandestine work for his country. And Jeffrey wanted it that way.

  “Yes. They’re pretty quiet at the moment, at least on my end of things. A war between Prussia and France will stir things up inevitably, I suspect,” Jeffrey explained.

  “Are they sending you to Paris?”

  “More than likely before the end of summer.”

  Lucien nodded, thinking that he might very well be engaged by the end of the summer, while his friend would be aiding his country in Paris.

  “So please tell me you’re not seriously considering the dull Bromleigh chit.”

  Lucien gave him a steady glance, unwavering in his meaning. “I am.”

  “I’m disappointed in you, Lucien. Of all the wonderful girls out there for you to marry, why her?”

  “Faith Bromleigh will suit just fine.”

  “Fine? Fine?” Jeffrey scoffed with indignation. “Can you even have a conversation with her?” In response to Lucien’s tight-lipped silence, Jeffrey said disparagingly, “I knew it! I’m sure she’s a nice enough girl, but do you really want to spend the rest of your life with someone who has a personality like wall paint?”

  Again, Lucien could not respond. Jeffrey had a valid point. Still, he knew he was making a sound decision. It was very important that he marry the right type of woman. And the biddable Faith Bromleigh was the best example of what he was looking for in a wife.

  “And can you picture yourself bedding her?”

  Lucien remained silent again at Jeffrey’s questioning. Faith Bromleigh did not arouse passion in him because she was not a passionate person. That was why he’d chosen her.

  Jeffrey continued, “If you feel you must marry before your father dies, then at least choose a woman with some life in her, like one of those Hamilton sisters. Juliette and Colette are both beauties with enough wit and charm to last a lifetime.”

  At the mention of Colette Hamilton’s name, Lucien’s entire body tensed. He had been attempting to block her from his thoughts all week. Since he kissed her that night in the garden, he had been tortured with images of her. He could have kicked himself for kissing her, but at the time he had been powerless to prevent it. He simply had no choice but to finally taste those berry-sweet lips for himself. If he were totally honest, he had been dying to kiss her since the moment he set eyes on her in the bookshop.

  But even he, he who had kissed countless women over the years, had been completely unprepared for the effect Colette had upon his senses. Good God, she had left him reeling and desperate for more. So much more…He had wanted to take her there in the garden, to tear that silky gown from her body and feel her naked skin pressed against his, to caress her plump, ripe breasts, to kiss every inch of her, to drive himself into her warm, seductive little body.

  Yet even he knew better than to trifle with a girl like that. Colette wasn’t one to be taken lightly. She was the type of girl that a man married. Unfortunately, she was not the type he must marry. Someday Miss Colette Hamilton would lead her husband into a merry hell, with her stubborn ways and modern notions. He could not afford to risk a marriage with a wife like that. After a childhood racked with nothing but scandal, he wished for some measure of peace in his life, with a wife he could trust to behave and who would be faithful to him.

  “If you think they would make such perfect wives, why don’t you marry one of them?” Lucien questioned with a challenging look.

  Jeffrey countered pragmatically, “I’m an undercover operative for our country, the illegitimate son of the Duke of Rathmore, a notorious and well-respected rake, and I’m about to leave for Paris. Yes, I’m an ideal candidate for any woman to marry.”

  “Well, don’t try to foist them on me, then. Especially Juliette. That one is a holy terror.”

  “She’s fantastic!” Jeffrey defended Juliette with an eagerness that surprised Lucien. “I have had some of the most entertaining conversations of my life with that girl. And believe me, I’ve had some great ones.” He paused thoughtfully. “But what about Colette? She would appeal more to your tastes.”

  “I hardly think a woman who runs a bookshop and handles business like a man would be suited to be a marchioness. Besides, what is your interest in these two particular sisters?”

  “I think they’re amazing. I’ve never met women quite like them. I spent some time with them the other night—”

  Lucien almost choked on his whisky. “You did what?”

  “Easy, old man,” Jeffrey cautioned as Lucien continued to cough. “As I was saying, I went to their bookshop—”

  “You went to Hamilton’s?”

  “Yes, and would you mind not interrupting me?”

  “Fine, but why on earth would you go to their bookshop?” Stunned by the realization Jeffrey had been to Hamilton’s Book Shoppe, Lucien could not come to grips with his own reaction. He felt a strange, overwhelming possessiveness about Colette, her sisters, and the shop, and did not like the thought of Eddington visiting them. He didn’t like to think of him dancing with Colette either, though he would be hard-pressed to explain just why he felt that way to Jeffrey.

  “I wanted to see where they came from, these fascinating sisters. I’ve met all but the youngest now. And they are all quite lovely, intelligent women. Besides, Juliette practically dared me to come visit. I could hardly disappoint her.”

  “The two of you together would be a devastating combination,” Lucien quipped, shaking his head at the thought.

  “Yes, wouldn’t we, though?” Jeffrey agreed amiably. “But Juliette and I are much better suited to be good friends, if that makes any sense.”

  “I don’t know if you should even be friend
s.” Shaking his head in mock horror, Lucien grimaced.

  Jeffrey laughed. “Ah, but she’s fun.”

  Curious, Lucien couldn’t help but ask, “And what about Colette?”

  “What about her?”

  “What are your feelings for her?”

  Jeffrey gave Lucien a very hard look. Lucien found himself turning away, his eyes lingering on the orange flames in the fireplace. He watched the golden light dance and flicker wildly across the charred wood.

  “I think Colette is an amazing woman,” Jeffrey declared without hesitation. “She would be a credit to any man she marries. And that man would be a very lucky one. She’s just twenty years old and supporting her family. Did you know that?”

  “Yes,” Lucien admitted reluctantly. The thought had weighed on him. “We should see if we couldn’t send some business her way.”

  “That isn’t a bad idea,” Jeffrey admitted. “The poor girls could use a break.”

  After a long pause, Lucien stated, “I received some news that will take your mind off the Hamilton sisters. I received a letter from my mother today.”

  “You’re not serious?” Jeffrey asked, incredulous. “Good God! After all this time. What did she say?”

  “It seems she has returned to London and has learned of my father’s illness. She wants to see him. And me.”

  Jeffrey remained speechless for some time before asking, “What do you intend to do?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Imagine hearing from her after all these years.”

  Lucien had imagined it hundreds of times when he was younger. He had dreamed of her returning, declaring she missed him too much to stay away and promising to never leave again. But those childhood fantasies had ceased by the time he was twelve and his mother had not written him a single word. Since then he had hardened his heart against ever being hurt by her again.

  “Have you told your father yet?”

  Lucien shook his head in regret. “No, I’m afraid hearing about my mother might cause him more pain than he’s in already.”