But society could be cruel. The expectations weighed heavily on one’s shoulders, and she hated to imagine what it must be like to let everyone down. Lord, she hoped she did not. Even after all this, she still needed to marry someone respectable and wealthy. What if this ruined her completely? Would they accept that Ash had taken her against her will? And did she even want him to take the blame for this?
She flicked a glance up at one of the paintings on the wall. The sensual theme of the house continued—albeit in a tasteful manner. She did not think she’d ever had quite such an education in the human body and well...sex. Her mother had been quite graphic, but it was all very well simply hearing about it. She’d seen horses do it, but she knew well enough animals were different from humans.
She had not expected, however, all the...entwining. Legs and arms everywhere. Perhaps it was scandalous of her but she couldn’t resist eyeing the statues and taking in their expressions of ecstasy.
Would it really be like that? From what her mother had said, she’d thought sex consisted of a few delicate kisses and a man on top of her. But these statues portrayed something entirely different. At present she really did feel a country bumpkin.
And hot. So very hot. Images of naked bodies, writhing together skipped through her mind. She needed to think of something dull.
Chess. Yes, she loathed chess. Uncle Bernard loved to play chess and could be counted on to play at the slowest pace possible, contemplating each move with utter care. Of course, she was too impatient and always lost but rather that than be bored to death.
Skin. Bodies.
Ash Cynfell.
She tightened her grip on her skirt and puffed a breath up over her face. This would not do. This wasn’t how well-bred ladies in search of a husband behaved. If only he had not grabbed her like that and held her close. She’d been all too aware of the heat and strength of his body and now every man on the statue was replaced with an image of him. Would his muscles by carved like them? Would his—
“No!” She stood. No more, she couldn’t—
The door burst open, and Ash and Harris barrelled in, almost knocking into one another.
“Is all well?” they asked together.
“Yes, of course.”
“We heard you shout,” Ash explained.
Lila shook her head while heat surged into her face. What could she say? That she had been trying to talk herself out of imagining him naked?
“I do not believe I did.” She propped her hands on her hips. “What were you doing anyway? Lying in wait outside my room?”
“Just trying to make sure you’re safe,” Ash grumbled.
“I thought you were getting changed.” Harris lifted the gown she’d been kindly provided with. “Red. My favourite.” He winked at her.
“Not my favourite,” she muttered.
The gown was decent enough. She’d feared they’d try to lend her some scandalously low cut and tight dress but thankfully it was as tasteful as her bedroom furnishings. That said, red really was not her colour. “Young ladies should wear pastel colours. Darker colours are for older women.”
“Pish,” Harris declared. “Young ladies look fine indeed in dark colours.”
“I think you look very fine in pastels,” Ash said quietly, averting his gaze from them both and moving to the window to peer out.
It might have been a small compliment, but it warmed her heart a little.
Ash turned back. “Dinner shall be brought up to you shortly. I do not advise you leave your room.”
Lila had been torn between wanting to explore the house and hiding away forever. Apparently that decision had been made for her. And she didn’t like it one bit. “And if I am to stay here for a long time. Am I to remain forever locked in this room?”
“Stourbridge has a wireless system. I’ll send word to our brothers of the situation,” Ash told her, coming close and eyeing her through that intense gaze that made her insides shrivel at the same time as dance with excitement. “Between them, I have no doubt they’ll dig up some evidence connecting Newton to the murders.”
“So I simply wait until your brothers have finished playing investigators?”
Ash’s scowl deepened.
Harris pushed a hand through his hair and offered a grin. “If you would like me to escort you around the house, it would be my honour to protect you from all the blackguards.”
Ash released an odd sound, and Lila darted her attention to him. She could have sworn she heard his teeth grind as he glared at his brother.
“Who is to protect me from you?” she asked with a sly smile.
“Who says you want protection?” Harris’ grin grew flirtatious.
“I’ll show you around,” Ash declared.
“I was only jest—”
“Harris, why do you not find out about supper?”
“But—”
“Harris,” Ash snapped.
His brother shook his head and muttered something about idiot brothers before ambling out.
“There was no need to be so rude,” she scolded.
Ash scowled. “He’s a flirt and a blackguard. He needs to watch his tongue.”
“He’s your brother! I’m not sure you should talk of him that way.”
He looked suitably chastened. Lila could not fathom it. Harris was harmless and charming. She understood that he likely flirted with every female in the vicinity under eighty. Perhaps even those who were older. It was simply the way he was. She would have thought Ash was well used to it by now. How odd these two were that they were so different.
And so alike in looks. Yet she never confused them. There was no doubting those fathomless eyes and creased brow.
“I should dress before supper,” she declared when his unnerving gaze remained on her.
He stared at her quite a bit, she realised. While she had noticed it before, she had not thought much of it. As a new lady in town, being stared at was something she had grown used to. But no one looked at her like Ash did. It was as though he was trying to figure out the riddle of her and yet she never thought herself as a riddle. She was who she was—though perhaps a slightly more refined version.
Although refined was possibly the wrong word for her behaviour over the past night and day.
He blinked, gave a quick dip of his head, and strode out, shutting the door behind him so hard that one of the pictures on the wall rattled. Her stomach bunched, and she realised her palms were clammy. The image of his deep gaze boring into her lingered. Yet this was not fear that governed her body. Nor did it feel simply like attraction. If so, she would feel the same in Harris’ company, surely?
Why did Ash Cynfell unnerve her so?
Lila picked up the deep red gown with a sigh and set to work removing her dress. When she was down to her corset and drawers, she gave a groan. She wasn’t used to dressing herself and this new gown had lacing down the back. It had not even occurred to her to ask about help. Presumably one of the, um, women could help her.
She wasn’t sure she even wanted to ask. What would they be like? Would they laugh at her for her inexperience? Mock her for being so out of place here?
Drawing in a long breath, she straightened her shoulders and pushed aside any notion of feeling sorry for herself. It could be so much worse. She could be dead, like that poor man. She could be entertaining Lord Curly Wurly. She shuddered. Somehow being around men like Ash and Harris had made the idea of spending time with such—what did they call them?—dry old sticks made her stomach turn. Suddenly, the idea of marrying a man like that—like any of her potential suitors—held little appeal.
Lila picked up the dress and stepped into it. Excellent. She pulled up the ruffle sleeves and was grateful to note her corset worked well with the cut of the gown. She glanced in the full length mirror by the window and nodded to herself. Yes, red wasn’t so bad. It made her look a little daring and unlike the innocent she was meant to be, but it made her hair shine golden and her skin appear delicately flushed.
Now all she needed to do was decide how to do it up.
Turning her back to the mirror, she peered over her shoulder. She twisted her arms behind her and reached for the ties, grimacing as she tried to contort herself. Breath held, she clumsily began to lace the dress.
She tugged and wrestled. She fought and wriggled. Eventually she was as red in the face as her dress and almost breathless. And still not in her gown. Tears threatened to well in the corner of her eyes, and she swiped them away angrily.
After another attempt, the tears spilled and, annoyed at herself for being so silly, she kicked out at the vanity table stool. She screeched. Her toe throbbed. She fell to the floor as the stool tumbled onto one side and at the same time her door burst open.
Before she could quite register what had happened, there was a body on top of her.
A hard, very Ash Cynfell-like body.
She stared up at him through wide eyes.
“What is it? What happened? Are you hurt?”
Lila couldn’t even shake her head.
She opened her mouth but only a puff of air escaped her. Really, it surprised her there was any air left in her lungs. Certainly the weight of him constricted her chest, but it was more the fact he was on top of her. On. Top. Of. Her. Oh deary dear.
Lila gulped and stared up at him. A lock of hair dropped over his forehead, and if she’d been able to move at all she might have pushed it aside and pressed her fingers over his crinkled brow.
But as it was, she was frozen. From shock, from embarrassment, from...excitement. She’d never been so close to a man.
He cleared his throat but did not look away. She’d half-expected him to push away from her but, no, they remained locked in some odd, irrational staring competition. Lila found herself praying he did not look away. She suspected she could spend many a day looking into those chocolate eyes.
Finally, after what could have been hours of being aware of his strong thighs between hers, his heart pounding through his solid chest against her, she cleared her throat. “Your eyes...chocolate...” The words—oh the foolish, silly words—came out thin.
Ash’s brows dipped in confusion.
“They-they’re like chocolate. I like them,” she muttered shyly.
The scowl vanished. “Yours are indescribable.”
Indescribable. She liked that. She’d been told they were the colour of fresh grass, the Scottish hills. Even likened to a pond, which was a little off-putting. But never before had she been told that.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Did I harm you?”
Lila shook her head. It was a little hard to tell being crushed between the floor and him, but as far as she knew, she was in one piece.
“What happened?” He skimmed a thumb under her eye, and she realised the tears must still be lingering.
“It’s silly...”
He waited, pinning her down once more with his gaze.
“I did not want to ask for help with my gown so I tried to do it myself. I got frustrated and well...I...had a falling out with the stool.” She waved in the direction of the offending item of furniture.
“Your gown...” Ash levered away from her and skimmed his gaze down her body.
She followed his gaze and came to the realisation that the gown had moved down her body and revealed most of her corset and chemise. Her breasts were there, thrust up against him in a manner that looked far too much like one of those sculptures. An astonishing heat flourished through her, arrowing down between her legs. Those naughty images were back and too realistic. She felt her cheeks redden.
They both seemed to do an awful lot of staring. Both at their own bodies and the way they connected and then at each other. He didn’t move. She couldn’t and did not even wish to. His eyes flared a little and her body undulated of its own accord as if reaching up for him. Her breasts pressed against him.
The door crashed open, and Ash bolted away. Lila scrambled to pull up her gown when Harris stepped into the room.
“Oh forgive me.” Harris grinned at her and took a long, leisurely look.
Ash moved to step in front of her. “What the devil are you doing, Harris?”
“Me? I am entirely innocent in all of this. As for you...”
“It was an accident.”
“Oh yes, I know all about dresses accidentally falling off and men accidentally falling on top of women. Accident, indeed,” Harris scoffed.
“It was,” Ash said through clenched teeth.
Lila, weary of all the drama, came to her feet, now modest enough apart from the open back of her gown. “I do wish both of you would consider knocking. It’s very rude you know.”
Both brothers glanced at one another and muttered an apology.
“Lila, your food shall be up shortly. Ash, there is a telegram from Jasper already. Wanted to know how long we’re staying here and if we need him to come help.”
“We don’t need any more of you!” She didn’t think she could cope with anymore Cynfell men.
“No, we’re not bringing him into this. We can handle this ourselves.” Ash took a step toward her. “You will be safe. I promise I will not let you come to harm.”
She nodded. Already, she was beginning to understand that there was something about this man that meant he would do anything even to protect a near stranger. It was certainly a very admirable trait.
“Shall I send someone up to, er, aid you?” he asked.
Shoulders straight, she muttered a weak, “Yes, please.” It could not be any more embarrassing than it already had been to have someone help her.
“I won’t be long,” he told her and they both left.
Lila only had a short time to sit on the bed and contemplate having Ash Cynfell on top of her. The images were back but they were not as raw as they had been. They involved long looks again, maybe longer touches. She was never one to lie to herself, and she had to admit, she had really wanted him to remain on top of her.
Maybe even kiss her.
She put her head in her hands. This was not what was meant to happen. Why had everything gone so wrong? She was to be swept up by some affable nobleman. They would have a sweet, charming courtship then retreat to his country estate and make beautiful children. The idea of conceiving said children had hardly crossed her mind. She had mostly hoped it would involve dramatic kisses where he would bend her over one arm and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.
Never had she imagined being flattened to the floor and kissed as intensely as she had no doubt Ash would. Everything about him was intense—his kisses would be no different.
A knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts. She smiled to herself. There was no chance that was either of the Cynfell brothers.
Chapter Seven
Ash stopped by Anna’s office to find her buried under paperwork. It was odd that when he’d pictured her running a place like this, he’d expected the work to be a little less dull. Instead of being on the gaming floor or flirting with her customers, she kept herself busy in the office or seeing to the women who worked for her. He had to admit, things ran smoothly at Stourbridge.
Certainly, the behaviour of her patrons was particularly debauched, with rich and powerful men gambling away fortunes then whiling away the night with their mistress or a beautiful woman or two. However, so far he’d managed to keep Lila away from anything too scandalous.
For how much longer though? Three days and no word of any progress in finding a connection between the chief and the murders.
“Any telegrams?” he asked.
Anna looked up and shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Damn.”
“You cannot keep her hidden forever.”
“I know, but I’ll be damned if I let her come to harm.”
She gave him a sad smile. “You always were the hero.”
Guilt struck him as it often did with Anna. She’d been quite attached to him during their younger years, and he could not help feel he
should have done something—counselled her or talked with her. He didn’t know what, but something.
“Are you happy here, Anna?”
“Of course.”
“You don’t miss society?”
She released a mocking laugh. “Why would I miss them? Anyway, now they come to my doorstep, begging to come into my house.”
“I hate to say it, but you sound bitter.”
“Ash, you are hardly the sort of man to be talking of such things. Are you not a cynic of the world? Is that not why you hide yourself away from society?” She motioned between them. “We are more alike than you realise.”
They were not. But she did not need to know the real reason he had appeared to have given up on life and why he avoided society.
“Is Lila well?”
Something flashed in Anna’s eyes. “I am not her nanny, Ash, but Harris is watching her. I promised you she would be safe here.”
“I know you would not let her come to harm,” he replied stiffly.
He hoped Harris wasn’t keeping too close an eye on her. His brother was too charming for his own good, and he didn’t like the way Lila giggled when he talked to her.
“I shall leave you to your work.”
She didn’t respond, merely turned her attention back to the papers on her desk. He couldn’t fathom what he had done wrong, but she was being distinctly cold toward him. If only he understood women better. He could swear out of all his brothers, he was the worst with them—and that was saying something considering his brother Julian had been a practical ogre before his marriage.
He headed up to Lila’s room and paused with his hand to the doorknob. Taking a step back, he knocked several times and waited.
“Lila?”
His heart picked up speed a little. Images of her lying on the ground like Westerling, her throat cut and blood everywhere seared his mind. Ash shoved open the door and swung his gaze about. No sign of her. Bloody hell, where was she?
Sinful Possession (Cynfell Brothers Book 5) Page 5