What You Desire (Anything for Love, Book 1)

by Clee, Adele

  “Do not mistake me for a fool, Miss Beaufort. I have been in control of this situation from the moment you entered my house, from the moment you began prowling around in a state of dishabille to snoop in my desk.”

  Sophie opened her mouth to protest, but he raised his hand to silence her.

  “Let us stop this game,” he continued, “and let us examine the reason why you find in necessary to behave like such a hoyden.”

  Hoyden? The man had the nerve of the Devil. He’d spent the last six years entertaining his mistresses on the Continent without a thought for his tenants.

  He strolled over to the chair next to the fireplace, sat down and began tugging on his boot.

  “What on earth are you doing?”

  “Undressing,” he uttered casually. “I know what you’ve come for. I know what you want.”

  Chapter 6

  Sebastian took great pleasure in watching her reaction.

  She began twiddling her fingers and shuffling from one foot to the other. Her eyes, as blue and as inviting as the Tyrrhenian Sea on hot summer’s day, were wide with uncertainty, her gaze flitting between his boot and his face. He really wished she would stop biting her bottom lip as it caused a tightening in his abdomen he found far too distracting.

  Miss Beaufort was definitely an enigma.

  She had been correct in her observation, although he would never admit it. As soon as she’d put her hands on his chest, his pulse had quickened, his usual steely reserve melting. Remarkably, those ripples of desire were still flowing beneath the surface, like the constant course of a stream. Perhaps that was why he felt so annoyed, so irritable, yet highly aroused at the same time.

  Placing his hand into his boot, he removed the small silver key and almost chuckled when he heard her sigh with relief.

  “One can never be too careful with thieves about,” he remarked, thrusting his foot back in his boot.

  With purposeful strides, he walked around the desk, unlocked one of the drawers and retrieved the red velvet pouch. Ignoring her gasp, he placed it on top and removed the necklace.

  “It’s exquisite.” He held it above the candle; the oval rubies appeared more vibrant from the glow of the flame. “I do not believe I have ever seen anything quite so enchanting.” It was time to start subtly probing for information, and so he added, “I’m just surprised you want to sell it.”

  “Is that what James told you? I should have guessed that was his intention.”

  “You obviously don’t agree with his decision.”

  “The necklace has been in our family for generations. My mother refused to part with it,” she said softly, rubbing her fingers along her collarbone as though remembering the coolness of the metal on her skin. “And I must admit I feel the same way.”

  Sebastian swallowed. He had a sudden urge to see it draped around her neck, to see the rich, red stones set against perfect porcelain, to see it cast a warm glow over the curve of her breasts.

  Good God!

  “I cannot believe James would go against my wishes,” she continued. “I cannot believe he’s agreed to sell it.”

  “Do … do you need the money?” he said forcing his mind to focus. It was an impertinent question. Under the circumstances, he felt justified in asking.

  “I’m sure James has already explained. He has some ideas for developing the estate and well, it was something we were going to discuss after the valuation.”

  “But you don’t agree.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not my estate. What I don’t understand, is why the necklace is in your desk?” she said putting her hands on her hips.

  Trying to ignore the way her hands molded the thin fabric to her body, he replied, “A question I have wondered myself.”

  Dropping her hands, she stared at him blankly.

  “What would you say if I told you I was followed from London by two masked riders?” Sebastian continued, placing the necklace gently onto the velvet cloth. “Whose sole intention was not to relieve me of my purse, but to give me a necklace worth a king’s ransom.”

  “Masked riders?” she repeated as tiny furrows appeared on her brow. “Who were they? How did they come to have the necklace?”

  “Your brother was the principal rider. He had gone to a great deal of trouble to hide his identity, which I believe was not entirely for my benefit.”

  Sebastian studied her reaction carefully.

  She should have been shocked. She should have questioned him. However, she did not. It obviously came as no surprise to her, meaning she knew exactly why James found it necessary to wear a disguise. After having a lengthy discussion with her housekeeper, he had an idea, too.

  “Did James mention me when he gave you the necklace?”

  “Only that I act as your guardian in his absence and keep the necklace safe.” It was not a lie, just a slight manipulation of the truth. Someone needed to take her in hand.

  She thrust her chin in the air. “I do not need anyone to take care of me.”

  “No? Do you think your brother would approve of you being alone here with me, wearing nothing but a nightdress?”

  “Well, he is not here,” she said, a trace of resentment evident in her tone. “You mentioned another man, another rider. Do you know who he was?”

  Although she tried to remain expressionless, he could almost hear the little wheels whirring in her head. She wanted information, but why?

  “This is where it gets even more intriguing,” he said, pausing briefly for dramatic effect. “The other rider was a woman.”

  “A woman!” she exclaimed unable to hide her shocked expression.

  Well, that answered his next question. James must have met the woman in London, and recently. Their verbal exchange suggested a level of intimacy, yet James had made the mistake of underestimating her character — a feeling currently plaguing Sebastian.

  “Do … do you know who she was?”

  “Thankfully, no,” he chuckled, remembering the way she had ridden off in a tantrum. “For some reason I seem to have developed an ability for attracting hotheads.” Indeed, between Miss Beaufort and Mrs. Bernard he did not know if he was coming or going.

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” Sophie said, placing her hands on her hips again, the thin fabric stretching tighter across her stomach.

  “Please,” Sebastian said through gritted teeth. “If you value your virtue, do not do that again.”

  For some obscure reason, he was in a state of semi-arousal and she was certainly not helping matters.

  She glanced down and then dropped her hands, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.

  In a desperate bid to change the subject and dampen his desire, Sebastian decided it was time she gave him some answers. “So, now I have been kind enough to tell you all I know regarding your brother and the necklace, I feel it only fitting that you show me the same courtesy.”

  “I do not know what you mean.”

  Sebastian sighed. “Very well, let me put it plainly. How did you know I had the necklace? Why would you risk your reputation by coming here and what does the French comte have to do with it all?”

  She appeared astounded and so Sebastian decided he would make it easy for her. Besides, the sooner he dealt with this, the sooner he could go back to some semblance of normality.

  “I shall let you into a little secret,” he continued. “Your housekeeper was quite forthcoming on the subject of foreign visitors.”

  “You spoke to Mrs. Hudson?”

  “Of course. When I called to collect your nightdress,” he said, gesturing to the garment. Although considering the effect it was having on his current disposition, he wished he had let her sleep in wet clothes.

  She tilted her head to the side and considered him for a moment, no doubt calculating what he knew and what secrets she was willing to divulge.

  “Yesterday, a few hours before I arrived at your door, a gentleman who called himself the Comte de Dampierre came to Brampton Hall,” she
said in a measured tone, as though making a statement at the monthly assizes. “It appears James is in some sort of trouble. Apparently, he made a deal to trade the necklace and has since disappeared. The comte suggested the matter might be concluded if I were able to discover its whereabouts. Hence the reason I am here.”

  While he knew she spoke the truth, such a curt and concise recital omitted one vital ingredient: emotion. Such lack of feeling, either in tone or in the relating of events, told him there were parts of the conversation she had neglected to tell him.

  “Did Dampierre tell you to come here?” he asked. He had spent a considerable amount of time in France and yet had never heard of the Comte de Dampierre.

  “No, that was my idea. You’re the only person James trusts. But, as the rightful owner of the necklace, I shall relieve you of your burden so you may continue on your quest for spiritual recuperation.”

  Her pretty blue eyes sparkled with amusement and the corners of her mouth curled into a smile, despite trying to suppress it.

  “Spiritual recuperation — is there such a thing?” he asked, a little confused. “If there is, I can assure you my spirit does not need to recuperate.”

  “Really?” she mocked. “I heard you had lost your vitality and had come home to rediscover it.”

  Sebastian placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “There is nothing wrong with my vitality,” he answered defensively. “And I am afraid that somewhere along the way you have made a frightful miscalculation. I think you will find your brother is the heir and so the necklace belongs to him.”

  She moved to put her hands on her hips but changed her mind. “Yes, but in choosing to place it in your hands he obviously meant for you to return it to me.”

  “I do not believe that to be the case. Your brother obviously doesn’t want this Dampierre fellow to have it, and I doubt he would want to place you in any danger. Whilst I agree there is something strange about the whole affair, perhaps he gave it to me knowing how I thrive on intrigue.” He gave her a wicked grin. “And believe me when I tell you, Miss Beaufort, intrigue is not the only feeling thrumming through my veins.”

  At first she appeared a little flustered. Her eyes shifted around the room and he could hear her breathing more deeply. He would have given anything to know what she was thinking.

  “I’m afraid I must insist, my lord. The necklace must be returned to London as a matter of urgency. It is not a topic for negotiation.”

  It was the first time she had addressed him with the respect befitting his station, but she had done so by way of a reprimand.

  Sebastian walked around the desk, closing the gap between them and perched on the edge. He had a newfound respect for Miss Beaufort. Such fortitude in a man was commendable, for a woman it was remarkable. However, he would be damned before he would allow her to do something so foolish. In granting him guardianship of the necklace, it appeared James had inadvertently granted him guardianship of his sister.

  “So let me understand your situation,” he said, rubbing his chin. “You, an unmarried woman of gentle breeding, insist on riding alone to London carrying an extremely expensive necklace. Once there, I believe you intend to attempt to trace your brother or meet with a French comte.”

  “Yes,” she replied with a firm nod.

  “And you expect me to just hand it over and wave goodbye at the door.” He straightened to his full height and said in a stern voice, “Have you ever been to London, Miss Beaufort?”

  “That is of no consequence,” she replied, unperturbed. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  Sebastian snorted. Her argument had no basis for she had probably never ventured more than ten miles from her own front door. “I will not deny that your courage appears to have no bounds, but you could not possibly be aware of what danger lies ahead.”

  The mere mention of the word danger should have been enough to create doubt over such a ludicrous plan, but Miss Beaufort was either deaf or oblivious to the meaning of the word.

  “I have a theory,” she said, straightening her back and lifting her chin. “Those not courageous enough to take risks, will accomplish nothing in life.” She gave a little shrug, a coy smile playing on her lips. “Sometimes you just have to take a chance.”

  It appeared there was only one way to put a stop to her ridiculous notion of heroism. “I believe I am about to put your theory to the test.”

  He did not wait for a response. In a few strides, he covered the distance between them, moved his hand to the small of her back and pulled her into his chest.

  “Where is your courage now, Miss Beaufort?” he whispered as his lips found hers.

  Chapter 7

  Sebastian knew why he was kissing her.

  From the moment she had stood on her toes, pressed her soft body up against him and teased him with her wandering hands, he had struggled to think of anything else.

  He expected the kiss to last mere seconds, but this was a woman who defied his expectations. Foolishly, he’d convinced himself the kiss was simply a way of highlighting her naiveté, to demonstrate the dangers an innocent woman might face once alone in the city.

  Then a sigh left her lips and the thought left him.

  Relaxing his grip, he let his hand roam over her lower back as his lips moved slowly and smoothly over her sweet mouth. She responded to his touch, pressing herself against him, molding herself into him and he could feel the swell of her breasts through the fine fabric, could feel the heat radiating from her body.

  He continued slowly, curbing his desire, telling himself she would come to her senses and break contact. Then her hand drifted up over his chest, up to caress the back of his neck, her fingers stroking in a slow, seductive rhythm. Her lips parted on another soft sigh and he could not hold back.

  His tongue traced the line of her lips, desperate to taste her, to possess her. She opened for him, her untutored tongue meeting his with a need that matched his own. Their breathing became shallow and rapid and he let his hands move further down her back, cupping her and drawing her closer in an attempt to ease his throbbing manhood.

  Desire gripped him like a whirlpool, pulling him down, sucking him under.

  Good Lord. What had happened to Beaufort’s sister while he had been away?

  The thought caused a jolt of awareness, jerking him to his senses, as though he’d just stepped on a carpet of nails with his bare feet.

  What the hell was he doing?

  He should be acting like a respectable guardian, not some scoundrel in need of sexual gratification. He tore his lips away and tried to shake the desire raging through him.

  What had started out as a plan to enlighten her, had turned into one of the most stimulating experiences of his entire life.

  He looked down at the delectable Miss Beaufort. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen. Her dark, silky locks hung wildly over her shoulders and he fought the urge to lift her into his arms and carry her off to his bed.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes, telling himself this could not happen again, not with his friend’s sister. This was supposed to be about reigning in the wayward Miss Beaufort. He needed to put some distance between them. And he knew exactly how to do it.

  Sebastian stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. “As the exercise proves, the only thing protecting your reputation is my respect for your family. And, as you are now aware, courage is a useless weapon against a man’s voracious appetite.”

  Miss Beaufort inhaled sharply, her eyes wild with contempt.

  “As a woman you will always be weak in that regard,” he continued calmly, arrogance dripping from every word, yet inside his body still burned with desire. “To place oneself at such risk accomplishes nothing.”

  Had it been any other inexperienced woman, he would have expected tears — the uncontrollable sobs of shame and mortification. Unsurprisingly, Miss Beaufort stood frozen to the spot, her tightly clenched fists hanging by her sid
es. The bright pink glow warming her face reflected anger rather than embarrassment.

  She turned away from him, her head moving left and right, searching the room.

  Perhaps he was wrong and she was about to cry. Guilt flared as he knew he’d sounded cold and unfeeling.

  Straightening her back and raising her chin, she walked gracefully over to the side table. Making a clinking sound, she removed the crystal stopper from a decanter of brandy and poured a measure. In two gulps, she drained the glass and he watched her shake visibly as the liquid fire trickled down her throat. She gave a little cough and a short exhale before slamming the glass down on the table.

  When she swung around to face him, her countenance appeared much improved, but her eyes looked as though they could turn a man to stone.

  “I fear I am inclined to agree with you,” she said calmly.

  He could hardly believe his ears. Finally, the lady was listening. He could not help but feel smug. A sense of masculine pride enveloped him and patted him on the back.

  “You see, I have always believed I had a passionate nature. Indeed, I did not know how passionate until a moment ago when you kindly conducted your little experiment.” She strolled around the room, picking up objects: a paperweight, a book of sonnets, a pipe tamper in the form of a naked woman, examining them and placing them down again. “I must say I found the experience quite overwhelming.”

  There was something different about her voice. It had lost all traces of innocence; her tone held a seductive, alluring quality that sung to him. Sebastian straightened as he fought against the memory of their passionate exchange.

  “Indeed, I am aware such a passion spills over into all aspects of life,” she continued. “If I am to be so easily coerced and dissuaded from my path, then I am not being true to my nature.” She looked up to meet his gaze, her sapphire-blue eyes piercing his soul. “But you are correct, my lord. As a woman, I fear I shall attract entirely the wrong sort of attention.”

  “Precisely, Miss Beaufort,” Sebastian said, swallowing deeply. “Which is why —”