Man of My Dreams Boxed Set

by Minger, Miriam

  He spun her then and she couldn’t answer, his low, intimate rendering of her name making her feel strangely light-headed, the crowded ballroom flying past her as if they danced on air. For she felt as if she were truly dancing on air, her silken slippers barely touching the floor, Jared held her so closely.

  Dear heavens, so closely that her breasts brushed his chest, the rough velvet of his black evening coat rubbing as if against her bare flesh and not the delicate satin of her gown. Stunned by such a wanton thought and how decadent they must appear to the assembled guests, she nonetheless did not try to pull away from him; in fact could not, as if captured by some enchanted spell.

  A spell she hoped would last and last forever. Lindsay suddenly felt certain deep in her heart that she had found the hero of her dreams. Her imagination as fired as her senses, she believed this man must know everything about London—everything about the world, for that matter. As a spy, no doubt well traveled, how could he not?

  “You smile so beguilingly, Lindsay. What are you thinking?”

  His teasing half whisper filling her with reckless abandon, she tilted her head and said very softly, “Only that I hope I will see you again.”

  Heaven help her, she had said it, truly said it! Lindsay exulted to herself even as nervousness gripped her, Jared’s eyes darkening to an unfathomable blue. Fearing she might have been too bold, too brazen, she made to apologize for her forwardness, but his arm drawing her possessively against him stopped her breath.

  “Oh, I fully intend that we’ll be seeing much of each other,” came his low reply, his gaze raking her face and then falling to her breasts. But his eyes didn’t linger there, once more meeting hers. “Tomorrow afternoon, two o’clock. A ride in Hyde Park, with a chaperone, of course—”

  “Oh, no, Aunt Winnie would never allow it.” The waltz nearly done, Lindsay rushed on breathlessly, sensing at last a chance for adventure. “I suspect she doesn’t particularly like you. I’m not sure why, but I have another—”

  “My notorious reputation?”

  Reddening a bit, Lindsay nodded. “But I don’t think you’re at all as she described.”

  “And how was that?”

  Lindsay sighed, their conversation not progressing at all as she would have liked, and there was so little time. “A blackguard and a rake and—”

  “A seducer of innocents.”

  “No, no, I was going to say a spy.” Seeing his expression suddenly harden, Lindsay felt an undeniable tension in his embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that’s not something you wish to hear spoken of so freely, but I think it’s wonderful! How noble to serve your country in such heroic fashion—how thrilling it must be for you!”

  “If I were a spy, I’m sure it would have its moments,” came the dry response. Lindsay took heart that she actually saw a glimmer of amusement returning to his eyes, although his face remained oddly grim. Hoping she might further cheer him, she kept her voice light and engaging.

  “Well, I’d love to hear about your adventures—and I hope you still want to see me again no matter the dreadful things my aunt said about you. But it can’t be during the day; that won’t do at all. Evening would be better—yes, half-past midnight would be perfect. We’re always home by eleven. Aunt Winnie doesn’t like staying out too late, and that would allow plenty of time for everyone to retire. Then I could meet you outside my aunt’s town house at Sixteen Piccadilly.”

  “Meet me alone?”

  “Of course, it’s the only way. Oh, dear, I know it’s very presumptuous of me to even ask—” It was the most outrageous thing she’d said since she’d been in London, but…

  “Half-past midnight will be fine.”

  Lindsay met his eyes, exhilaration filling her. “Truly? Tomorrow night?”

  His only answer was a brusque nod as the final strains of the waltz surged around them. Lindsay wondered if she might have broached every rule of etiquette, because he stepped so stiffly away from her when the dance was done. But he still held her hand, and her hopes soared that she hadn’t made an utter fool of herself when he lifted her gloved fingers to his lips and gentle kissed them. Yet his gaze was anything but gentle, burning into hers even as Lindsay heard an unmistakable voice cut through the rising din of conversation.

  “Oh, dear, oh, dear, whatever am I to tell Olympia if she hears news of this night? She’ll never forgive me, I’m certain of it! Never!”

  Lindsay grimaced, imagining the carriage ride home. She turned to flee to her aunt’s side, then glanced back to bid Jared good night. But he had already disappeared into the throng filling the dance floor, nowhere to be seen, leaving Lindsay to wonder if she had only imagined the last incredible moments that had been the most exciting of her life.

  ***

  “Will you ‘ave another drink, luv?”

  Jared narrowly eyed the tavern keeper’s wife, the woman’s huge, pendulous breasts close to spilling out of her too-tight bodice as she leaned over the table. A plump white hand slid suggestively along his arm. Sooty eyelashes lowered over dark, sultry eyes. The tavern keeper himself having gone upstairs to bed some time ago, his wife clearly meant to make Jared’s stay at their establishment as comfortable as possible.

  And perhaps he might have accepted her lusty offer, indeed had fleetingly considered taking her right here on the table as he had last night, all the other guests gone to bed, too, but he had no stomach for the woman’s generous proportions this evening. Shrugging off her hand, he swallowed the last of his wine and rose, barely giving her a glance as he walked to the stairs.

  “Wot, you mean I stayed up all this time for nothin’ to show for me trouble?”

  Jared turned to see the woman’s face flushed with outrage in the dying firelight. Digging into his pocket, he found a coin and flipped it onto a nearby table. She fell upon the silver crown like a vulture, her expression ingratiating as she tucked the coin deep into her bodice.

  “That was sweet of you, luv, but I would have liked another tumble, if you want the truth of it. I’d risk splinters in me bum at any hour for the likes o’ you.”

  Smiling grimly, Jared offered a slight bow and turned back to the stairs, but she made it there before him, her ample rump switching from side to side as she made one last obvious attempt to entice him. But he was already thinking again of another woman’s figure, a younger woman with such delectable hourglass curves that waltzing with her tonight had been the worst sort of torture.

  A torture, by God, that would end tomorrow night, his burning thoughts of seduction having kept him up even later than usual, the first pale rays of dawn sneaking glimpses through the Boar’s Head tavern’s closed shutters. With a low groan he pushed open the door to his room and kicked it shut behind him, not caring about the noise or whom he might awaken.

  He made short work of his evening clothes, tossing them onto a threadbare stuffed chair before dropping naked onto his bed. No matter that this room was the best offered by the tavern; the air was chill, the mattress lumpy, the blankets scratchy and thin, but he had slept in worse in his day. And the place suited him more than any elegant Mayfair town house he could have rented for the Season where busybody neighbors and fellow members of the ton might watch his every move.

  Suited, too, his notorious reputation, Jared thought with a humorless laugh, throwing an arm over his eyes. What better place for a rake such as he other than some latest conquest’s boudoir? He could imagine the furtive talk about his choice of lodging when he could easily afford the finest of London’s accommodations, and that suited him as well. Such speculation kept idle, frivolous minds and tongues well occupied and thankfully diverted from more serious matters so a man could go about his work.

  Another low, grim laugh broke the silence. Jared closed his eyes and allowed the beauteous Miss Lindsay Somerset to once more overwhelm his thoughts. She had been on his mind already, he hadn’t been able to think of much else since first setting eyes upon her at the Oglethorpes’ ball, so it came as no surpris
e to him that focusing upon her could so completely and quickly enflame his senses.

  He wanted her.

  And he would have the minx tomorrow night, perhaps even inside the carriage if she teased him as mercilessly as she had done tonight. Her beguiling smiles, her willingness to allow him to hold her so closely in his arms, her brazen suggestion that he meet her alone, that feigned swoon which had clued him at once that Lindsay Somerset was a shrewd young woman who knew how to manipulate and entice men.

  He had met her kind before, his association in the past with several comely chits fresh from the countryside having earned him the reputation of a seducer of innocents. But those young women, not a blushing virgin among them, had proved themselves from the first to be not so pure and innocent and had welcomed his advances as skillfully as married ladies of the ton offered him their sexual favors.

  A fat purse and paid coach back to the country had soothed conniving mothers and cuckolded papas, the cunning wantons quite happy to settle down with a local squire or baronet once their fortunes were either enriched or assured. But that hadn’t improved his reputation, not that he gave a damn. And seducing Lindsay Somerset wouldn’t make matters any worse, and would certainly ease his present discomfort…

  Jared groaned to himself, almost wishing he had accepted the tavern keeper’s wife’s lusty invitation. With great difficulty he forced away tantalizing thoughts of Lindsay’s breasts pressed against him, breasts so creamy and full and perfectly rounded he could already feel their ripe weight in his hands.

  In mute agony, he forced away a heart-stopping vision of her straddling him in the carriage, her slim white thighs gripping his hips, his fingers slipping into the wet heat of her body while her silky blond hair drifted over them like silver gossamer and her beautiful sky-blue eyes begged him to take her.

  With a low curse he threw himself onto his side and yanked a blanket over his shoulder, Lindsay Somerset’s soft red mouth yielding utterly to his, her whimpers and breathless pants of sweet release echoing in his ears even as he prayed somehow to get some sleep.

  Chapter 4

  “Lord, another ten minutes to go. Could this night possibly drag on any slower?”

  Lindsay’s frustrated whisper was answered by the low, rhythmic ticking of the mantel clock, which only made her pace her bedchamber with mounting impatience.

  She had been ready since half-past eleven, the town house gradually falling still as a tomb, Aunt Winifred tucked into bed with her nightly cup of hot chocolate, Matilda and the other servants retired to their attic rooms. Truly, she had begun to wonder if that blessed hurdle might even be breached!

  Somehow she had endured an endless card party at the Whimseys’ home, elderly neighbors of Aunt Winifred’s, Lindsay feeling through countless hands of whist as if her excitement might very well kill her, and now she truly felt as if she were about to burst. At last an adventure! But where was Jared? Oh, dear, had he forgotten?

  Lindsay stopped abruptly at a window overlooking the broad avenue and swept aside ivory lace curtains to take another peek, but still no coach had slowed at the Piccadilly address.

  The dull clip-clop of horses’ hooves had drawn her to the window a dozen times, and each time her disappointment had been almost painful, making her wonder again if meeting Jared Giles, the Earl of Dovercourt, had been nothing but a dream. But Aunt Winifred’s frantic lecture all the way home had been quite real, as well as her pronouncement in a stricken voice that there would be no more balls for several days, the smelling salts passed more than once under the poor woman’s nose.

  “Please, please, don’t be a dream,” Lindsay said fervently to herself, her breath fogging the windowpane. A soft drizzle tapped at the glass, wispy strands of mist creeping over the gaslit thoroughfare. She turned back to the clock. Almost half-past midnight…

  No longer able to contain herself, Lindsay drew the hood of her cloak over her hair as she quietly left her room, pausing only to close the door behind her before she flew down the hall. Her slippers barely made a sound upon the thick Oriental runner, but she knew the staircase would be a different story. Nearly each step creaked, so she fled down them as quickly as she could, her heart pounding for fear she might awaken one of the servants.

  Aunt Winifred, fortunately, slept as soundly as the dead, as did her docile Welsh corgis, Ignatius and Primrose; Lindsay almost imagined she could hear their buzzing snores following after her. But Matilda was known to be a light sleeper—she had to be with such a mistress—yet Lindsay couldn’t worry about the Scotswoman now. She raced across the vaulted center hall, nearly slipping on the polished pink marble floor, which only made her heart beat faster.

  Made her smile, too, Lindsay once more swept with nervous excitement. Her last obstacle the imposing double front doors, she nearly laughed with relief once she stepped outside into the chilly night air, but her smile faded when she saw that no carriage and snorting horses awaited her at the street. Shrouded from head to foot in her black cloak, she hesitated, not sure whether to venture out closer to the road or resign herself unhappily to bed.

  “I was beginning to think perhaps you had reconsidered our rendezvous.”

  Lindsay spun around as a tall shape materialized from the shadows, her heart settling into her throat when she recognized Jared in the hazy golden halo emanating from the lamplight in the street. “No, no, I didn’t see the carriage…” She fell silent, gaping as a glossy black coach drawn by four magnificent matched bays eased into motion from where it had been waiting several houses away, only to stop at the head of Aunt Winifred’s walk, the burly coachman jumping down from the driver’s box to open the door.

  “Come.”

  Lindsay didn’t tarry when Jared took her by the elbow and hastened her to the coach, his one simple word making her feel as wondrously elated as she had last night when she had waltzed in his arms. He hadn’t forgotten after all! She scarcely set a foot upon the steps when she felt his strong hands encircle her waist to lift her inside, her face growing warm with pleasure that he would be so gentlemanly. A few low words were spoken to the coachman and then Jared joined her, settling into the empty space beside her as the carriage jolted into motion.

  “I thought we might drive around the city.”

  “Oh, yes, that would be lovely!” Lindsay knew she was grinning like an utter fool, but she couldn’t help herself. An adventure at last! With a man who must know London inside and out, a true hero of the realm! Her imagination whirling as fast as the spokes of the carriage wheels, she paid little heed when Jared pulled a soft plaid blanket from the opposite seat and draped it over their legs.

  “It’s a damp night. I don’t want you to be cold.”

  “Oh, it could be freezing, truly, and I doubt I’d even notice. I’ve so wanted to see more of London ever since I arrived here.”

  “When was that?”

  “Just over three weeks ago. That’s why I’m surprised I’d never seen you before—at any of the balls I attended. Twelve, to be exact—well, eleven if we don’t count last night.”

  Oh, dear, she was uttering nonsense again, Lindsay thought when Jared didn’t readily answer, his handsome face half cloaked in shadow. But her excitement was so great she could barely contain herself, and she decided then and there she wasn’t going to worry how she might or might not appear.

  She had considered, since the Oglethorpes’ ball, that it might be rash to sneak out of the house and meet a gentleman she hardly knew, a notorious rake, no less, if she believed even an ounce of what Aunt Winifred had had to say—which she did not. More likely, jealous tongues had created false rumors about so daring and valiant a man. And how else would Jared discover that he had found a perfect match for himself if she didn’t demonstrate that she could be as bold and fearlessly adventurous as he?

  “Tell me about London, please,” she blurted, glancing excitedly out the window. “You must know everything about it—certainly more than Mayfair. That’s all I’ve seen and scarcely mu
ch of it, since poor Aunt Winnie is so determined to obey Olympia’s demands to the letter.”

  “Olympia?”

  Even hearing the woman’s name on Jared’s lips made Lindsay wish she hadn’t mentioned it. “My stepmother, Lady Somerset. She gave strict instructions that I was to attend balls and little else, no trips to the theater or pleasure gardens, no visits to Hyde Park—”

  “We’re passing Hyde Park right now. It’s dark, but if you’d like, I’ll have the driver—”

  “Could we?” Lindsay craned her neck to get a glimpse of the broad expanse of green beyond the gaslights along the way, elated that Jared had seemed to read her mind. “At least then I can say I’ve been there. Then could we pass by Covent Garden, and afterward maybe Vauxhall Gardens?” She felt breathless as she settled back in the seat and pushed her damp hood off her hair. “And you must tell me everything about what we see along the way, will you? And about the places you’ve traveled? It must be so exciting to be a spy—oh, but I’m not asking that you tell me any military secrets. I’ve just never been anywhere else but Cornwall, and it’s so wonderful that you agreed to meet me tonight and show me the city…”

  Lindsay suddenly fell still, realizing as heat crept up her face that Jared was studying her intently, his expression the strangest mix of bewilderment and irritation.

  “I-I’m sorry. Did I say something to offend?”

  Offend? Jared knew he was staring at her like a simpleton, but suddenly he felt like a blind fool.

  Damnation, if she hadn’t said as much, then he would have been the one likely to offend—a bloody virgin’s honor, no less! Muttering an oath, he yanked the blanket from across their laps and flung it upon the opposite seat, and would have followed himself if not for the hand suddenly at his arm.

  “Jared? Have I done something wrong?”