A Lyon in her Bed: The Lyon's Den

by Amanda Mariel

  What held Leo back? Why was he so disconnected? So guarded?

  He hadn’t even kissed her—not on the lips.

  Her skin flushed at the thought of all the places he had kissed. Her legs, her hip, her breasts… But not her lips. Why?

  “I’ve come to wash your hair, my lady.”

  Emeline opened her eyes and turned toward the maid that had entered. A sturdy, youthful woman with kind grey eyes and honey-colored hair.

  If Emeline had to guess, she would say the maid must be in her late twenties.

  She straightened to sit up in the tub and returned the maid’s smile. “Thank you.”

  The servant soaped up her hands, then reached for Emeline’s hair. “Lord Morton assigned me as your lady’s maid. My name is Anna, and I am pleased to serve you. I do hope you find me to your liking, my lady.”

  “I am certain we will get on well, Anna.” Emeline wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. “How long have you served the earl?”

  “Only since his return. Before that, I served as the late countess’s maid.”

  Late countess? Had Leo been married before? Or did she refer to his mother? It was striking how little Emeline knew about her husband. She tipped her head back so Anna could rinse the soap and asked, “Returned from where?”

  “The war, of course.” Anna poured a pitcher of warm water over her hair. “The late earl bought him a commission for his twentieth birthday. ’Course, no one expected him to be called up. The late countess was beside herself with worry when it happened. After that, everything changed.”

  So, Leo had been a soldier.

  Emeline turned the information over in her mind.

  His father had purchased a commission for him, and he’d gone to war.

  Leo must have been the spare. Debrit’s would have told her as much. Perhaps she should see if there was a copy in the library. She might still learn something from looking his family up. There were so many questions to be answered.

  What happened to his brother, then? Was the late countess his brother’s wife? No, it must have been his mother. What happened to her? To all of them?

  “I cannot imagine that he expected things to turn out as they have either,” Anna continued. “It must have been quite a shock to come home and find that he was now the earl.”

  Emeline stood, then stepped from the tub. As Anna wrapped her in a towel, Emeline asked, “What happened to his family?”

  “You don’t know?” Anna arched a brow. “I thought everyone knew about the tragedy. It’s just that no one speaks of it.” She took a towel to Emeline’s hair, rubbing the moisture from it.

  Emeline’s heart seemed to pause as she waited for the maid to speak again.

  This woman had the answers she sought. Emeline was sure of it. And unlike Debrit’s, Anna stood before her.

  “But never mind that. I will tell you.” Anna held out her dressing gown. “They were all killed in a carriage accident. Lord and Lady Morton, along with Lord Granger and his pregnant wife. All of them gone in the blink of an eye. And only a week before the new Lord Morton returned.”

  Heavens! No wonder Leo did not wish to talk about his family. He must suffer unspeakable pain. Emeline could not imagine losing her entire family at one time. The loss of her father had left her bereft. Heartbroken and hollow for the longest time. Even now, she missed him dearly, but at least she still had Mother.

  Leo had no one.

  The war. It had only recently ended. “How long has Lord Morton been home?” She held her breath as Anna pulled a brush through her hair.

  “Two weeks, my lady.”

  Good heavens! His wound was fresh. And yet, she saw no signs of mourning.

  Leo wore a black jacket, but most men did. Absent were black gloves or bands. Neither did the servants wear mourning clothes. How strange.

  Perhaps his grief was so crushing that he preferred to be in a state of denial? Maybe he found it more comfortable to ignore the tragedy and press forward than to acknowledge it.

  And to think, he bore the scars of war, too.

  She could not imagine what he had been through. Her heart ached for him.

  “They were all laid to rest in the family cemetery mere days before he returned,” Anna said as she twisted Emeline’s hair into a long braid. “Lord Morton refused to visit the graves and ordered everyone to carry on as normal.”

  “The poor man.”

  “Indeed.” Anna stepped back, then moved to stand in front of Emeline. “Will you be needing anything else this evening?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “No, thank you.” And she meant the words with sincerity. Anna had been exceedingly forthcoming. Thanks to her, she now had a far greater understanding of her husband.

  The door clicked shut, and Emeline sighed. No wonder Leo seemed so guarded. Grief held him in its tight fist. More than anything, he needed love and comfort.

  Puff dropped a balled-up piece of parchment near her foot, then batted one paw at her bare toes, then meowed.

  She scooped the kitten up, bringing it to rest on her lap. “There, there, darling. No need to fuss.” She stroked the kitten’s fur as she considered everything Anna had told her. No doubt remained that Leo needed someone, and she wanted to be that person. The one to comfort and care for him. The person to help him heal. But how could she use what she had learned to his benefit?

  She wasn’t sure, but one thing was certain, she was determined not to fail him.

  Chapter 8

  Rivulets of rain slid down the parlor window against a backdrop of grey sky and soggy landscape.

  Leo had hoped to take Emeline for their usual walk outside this afternoon, but the weather forced him to keep her indoors. In an effort to maintain a distance, as well as to keep her occupied, he had a deck of cards laid out.

  Thus far, his plan was working. Her attention remained on the game at hand rather than him. He had caught her casting the occasional glance his way, but she’d refrained from delving into his life with her usual barrage of questions.

  “Ninety-two,” Emeline said as she scooped up the trick.

  Leo dealt the next hand without comment. He looked at Emeline for a heartbeat before turning to his cards.

  She wore a marked look of concentration, and he wondered if she possessed the skill to count cards?

  The way she was winning made him suspect she must.

  He glanced out the rain-splattered window again, then back to his cards. She would likely take this trick as well, for his hand was rubbish. Not that he cared. In truth, he enjoyed watching her play so expertly.

  She’d had already won two games, and considering she had a twenty-three-point lead, she would claim victory again.

  “Carte blanche.” Emeline laid her cards out face up for Leo to see. “And that makes one hundred and two. I win.” She smiled.

  “Congratulations on a game well played.” He scooped up the cards, then handed her the deck. “Your deal.”

  She scowled at the offering. “I am weary of cards. Do let us promenade around the parlor.” She turned her smile on him. “I would very much enjoy the opportunity to stretch my limbs.”

  Leo wanted to deny her, but the gentleman in him would not allow it. He had agreed to spend an hour with her, and so he must.

  Reluctantly, he nodded, then stood to offer her his arm. A tendril of heat unfurled, traveling up his arm at her touch.

  “Are you not the least bit curious why I agreed to marry you?” she asked.

  It seemed today’s inquisition would focus on her.

  He released a pent-up breath. Better to discuss her than him, though there was still a danger in it.

  He did not wish to get close, and the more they grew to know one another, the harder it would be to guard himself.

  Bloody hell, the woman already had him lusting after her to the point of distraction. He’d lain awake for hours last night, fighting the urge to return to her bed, and woke up hard as a rock this morning wi
th her on his mind.

  “Well?” She slid her glance his way. One eyebrow arched in question.

  “You needed money.”

  “And you don’t wonder why that was?”

  He led her along the back of the parlor, their footfalls tapping out a slow rhythm against the polished floor. “It doesn’t signify.”

  “But of course it does. For all you know, I am some sort of criminal. A thief, perhaps.”

  Amusement piqued Leo’s interest as he met her gaze, a teasing grin playing at his lips. “Shall I instruct the housekeeper to guard the silver?”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Perhaps I should call Bow Street, then?” He did his best to appear serious. “Or have our union annulled.”

  She swatted at him, her small hand giving a light whack to his bicep. “Hush now. You’d see us both as social pariahs.”

  He feigned seriousness as he stared at her. “It seems my hands are tied. I can either await my murder or see us to ruin.”

  “I’m a murderer now?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.

  “You are the one who told me you might be dangerous. Are you not?”

  She grinned with mischief. “That I did, however, I only meant to pique your interest.”

  “And so you have. Now tell me what led you to such desperation.”

  Leo’s present enjoyment was so great that he forgot his reluctance as genuine curiosity tickled him. This woman, his wife, proved to be a marvelous distraction from his brooding.

  “Very well,” she averted her gaze back to the path in front of them. “You already know my father was a physician. What you do not know is that he was quite successful. He kept Mother and me in the latest fashions, our home was grand by most standards, and we never wanted for food. He was frugal to a point but never denied us anything. I had a dowry, and when he passed away, his account held enough coin to see Mother and me through.”

  Leo noted the fine lines creasing her brow. The little flecks in her deep brown eyes seemed to fade as she inhaled a slow breath. He patted her hand where it rested on his elbow. “You need not continue if you do not wish to.”

  “Please. I want you to understand.”

  Leo nodded, then led her around the corner of the parlor to stroll toward the fireplace.

  “I grew up in a loving and secure home. When Father died, it shattered me. Mother and I wept for weeks. Months even before we resumed any sort of regularity. When we emerged from mourning, Mother comforted and distracted us with lavish trips and shopping expeditions.”

  Emeline stilled and turned to Leo.

  “She was so used to having money and to Father keeping the accounts healthy that she never considered where we would get more. Not until the creditors came, and she lacked the funds they required. That is when my dowry disappeared, and we were suddenly impoverished.”

  His heart squeezed as he studied her. A sheen of unshed tears clouded her eyes, and her lips quivered.

  How the devil was he to remain aloft when her every word and action beckoned him near?

  He wanted to comfort her, but he also wanted to run from her. She wasn’t supposed to require more than money from him, and now, here she stood in need of comfort.

  His fingers twitched as his heart ached, but he held still.

  Bloody hell, he wanted to make her feel better, but he could not cross that line.

  “I should have known better, too. It is not all Mother’s fault. Even if it were, as her daughter, I bore a responsibility to marry. The job of saving us fell to me, and so I married you.” A rogue tear slipped from her eye.

  Leo could no longer ignore her plight. He reached out and dashed the offending teardrop from her cheek. “Don’t fret. I am not all that bad. You are a countess now, and I already promised to care for you and your mother. All will be well. You have my word.”

  Emeline pressed her eyes closed and nodded. Her thick, dark lashes fluttered, her gaze seeking his. “And I have promised you an heir. I confess to being curious as to why you were in such a hurry as to marry a stranger.”

  Bloody hell, he should have known she’d turn the topic back to him. A turn for a turn, or some such other rubbish. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. He supposed he could give her a crumb. Just enough to satisfy her. “I have a responsibility to my tenants and title.”

  “Indeed,” she drawled, “but you are handsome and titled, you could have your pick of women. Why choose a stranger? Why rush to the altar?”

  Instead of answering, he tugged her into his arms, crushing his mouth against hers.

  Chapter 9

  Emeline clung to Leo as his mouth devoured hers in a bruising kiss. He demanded more, and she parted her lips, allowing his tongue to dart inside her mouth.

  Her knees weakened as she brought her arms around his neck. Passion swam through her, threatening to choke off all reason.

  This kiss had little to do with passion. It was little more than an attempt to quiet her. He had no wish to answer her questions. No wish to discuss his past, but it was too important to ignore.

  She fought the urge to get lost in the moment and pulled back.

  Her breaths came fast as she splayed her hand on his chest, holding him at bay. “That was some kiss, and I would like to do it more, but not right now.” She gave a weak smile, her heart pounding. “Presently, I wish to talk.”

  “You talk too much,” he half growled as he leaned toward her again.

  She took a step back. “On the contrary, you do not talk enough.”

  “We do not need to talk at all.”

  Emeline stiffened and notched her chin. “I understand your reluctance to discuss your family, can you not understand my desire to know you?”

  Leo stared at her, his eyes holding no expression. “You agreed to give me a son. Friendship was not a part of the bargain.”

  “I think you are worth knowing. Worth caring about and building a life with.”

  “Then you are mistaken.” His tone was frosty.

  Emeline fought the urge to pull back. “I will be the judge of that.”

  He placed his hand over hers where it rested on his cheek and held it in place. His other arm snaked around her waist and pulled her tight against him.

  Desire sparked, and her pulse thrummed at the feel of his muscled torso tight against her body. It would be all too easy to press her lips to his.

  The temptation to allow his distraction mounted when she took account of her situation.

  Her breasts were molded to his chest, his erection pressed to her abdomen, and heat pooled between her thighs. To her dismay, a small whimper escaped her lips.

  “I want you, now,” he whispered close to her ear.

  “I want to know why you did not tell me you were a soldier?”

  His hold on her faltered. “It is irrelevant.”

  She stroked her hand over his jawline. “It makes you a hero.”

  He shook his head. “I’m no hero. I am scared, inside. Cold and empty.” He met her gaze and stared deep into her eyes. “Do yourself a favor and cease your efforts to make more of us than we are.”

  “Never,” she said with conviction. She had taken him to husband and would not abandon him now. This was her life, her future. She’d not give up on them. “I want a—”

  His mouth claimed hers once more, cutting off her words.

  This time, Emeline succumbed. She trailed her hand from his jaw into his hair and wrapped her arm around his neck.

  Perhaps, for now, she could comfort him without words. Mayhap, she could take a bit for herself, too.

  He trailed kisses across to her ear and whispered, “I need to be inside you.”

  “Yes.”

  He spun her around, then pulled her back against him. His lips found the side of her neck as his hand slid up her belly to cup her breast.

  Her skin tingled as her need grew. Her core pulsed, and dampness pooled between her legs. She tried to turn back to face him, to demand he take her this instant, bu
t he stilled her.

  “Stay. I want you like this.” He reached for her skirt and tugged it up to her waist. “Say you want me, too. Say you trust me.”

  “I want you.” She pressed her backside tight against him and wriggled. “I trust you.”

  His hand slipped around to cup her mound, and liquid fire pooled in her core.

  A moan ripped from her throat when he slid his finger into her heat.

  She bent forward, her pleasure building. “Leo, now. I need you now,” she begged as she ground against him.

  He kissed the back of her neck as he fumbled with his breeches. A moment later, his manhood caressed her backside, telling her he was more than ready to take her.

  On instinct, she spread her thighs farther and arched her back. “Leo… please.” She sighed as he slid into her.

  “Put your hands on the back of the couch,” he ordered as he pulled out, then thrust back into her heat.

  Emeline did as told, stretching her arms out and taking hold of the brocade cloth.

  The movement brought him deeper into her, and she bucked back, wanting even more.

  The man’s touch rendered her a complete wanton, and she didn’t bother to hide it. She loved every moment of their coupling. Every wicked touch, every scorching kiss, and every thrust.

  “Yes,” she cried as he took hold of her hips and thrust harder, deeper.

  She could quickly become addicted to this. To him. Perhaps she already was. She turned her head as far as she could manage, her gaze meeting his.

  “Come for me, pet. Come now,” he said.

  As if she had no choice, she cried out in bliss.

  His cock pulsed within her as a rush of warmth filled her.

  She whimpered when he pulled out of her and turned to embrace him.

  He wrapped his arms around her, his heart beating against her ear. He smoothed his hand over her hair, down her back. “Go clean up, pet,” he said, then released her and strode toward the parlor door.

  She bit back a protest as she watched him go.

  More than anything, she wanted to stay in his arms.