He stalled, trying to imagine which of his friends might be the most believable as her suitor.
Undeterred, Jules upped the ante on him with an evil grin. “I suppose I could see if that nice Mr. Lucifer might be able to offer us some help.”
Wolf wanted to curse. Loudly. And with great vigor. Instead, he did what he always did when it came to these two women and gave in, despite his better judgement. “I shall see if one of my friends might be willing. It is possible Linc would take on the task.”
Ros harrumphed. “Well, you needn’t make it sound so onerous. I am not an ogre, last I checked the mirror.”
“I meant no such insult. I am just trying to picture you with one of them, and Linc seems the most likely fellow. He’s quite the charmer.” Wolf nodded then, as much to himself as to them. Yes, he would be the best choice. Certainly the most believable. “I suggest we all go for an outing, so Ros and her intended may meet.”
He couldn’t keep his lips from twitching.
“We could all attend the Weatherly ball later this week,” Jules suggested.
“Maybe something less formal. Mayhap a picnic would be better? We can include all the Lustful Lords to ease any awkwardness.”
Wolf didn’t suspect his friends would be overly eager to attend a ball, and with the crushing crowds, it would be harder to keep Wallthorpe away from Jules and Ros.
“No, we need something more public, where a connection between Ros and your friend will be noticed.”
Jules’ voice carried a confidence that Wolf did not share on the matter. A ball seemed like a terrible idea.
“Absolutely not,” he retorted in his commanding voice. “A ball will be too crowded. And even if I could convince the other Lustful Lords to attend, it will be far too difficult to protect you both in such an environment.”
To his dismay, Jules utterly ignored him.
“Excellent. We already planned to attend, so why don’t you and your friends meet us here Thursday evening, and we can go together? We’ll see you at half past nine.”
He tried again. “Julia, I said no.”
“Wolf, be reasonable. If we do not make a very public display, the effort will be useless. Trust me when I tell you, Wallthorpe and my parents will simply ignore anything else.”
Then she pressed against his arm and unleashed her emerald weapons. He looked into her eyes and called the loss.
“Fine. We will see you then.” He ground his teeth and gave up the fight. When she dug her heels in, he knew there was no budging her.
Thursday night came and Wolf arrived at Jules’ house first. He was shown into the parlor to wait. Flint was coming with Linc, since they had planned to have dinner beforehand, and just to add a bit of polish to the effort, Stone and his wife, as well as Cooper and his new bride, were also joining the party. Arthur had fallen ill with a cold and had elected to stay home—balls not being his cup of tea.
Of course, none of the Lustful Lords were avid attendees of such soirees. They typically only went when forced by family, duty, or their wives.
Wolf suddenly heard the rustling of skirts, and then Jules appeared in the doorway. She looked stunning in a vibrant purple gown that could never have been mistaken for mourning garb. The off-the-shoulder dress bared far more of her shoulders and bosom than he would have preferred, though he could not deny she looked stunning. Her dress nipped in at her waist before belling out into full skirts. It was simple, with few adornments, but it fit her perfectly.
“You look ravishing this evening.”
She smiled brightly. “Do save the sweet words for when everyone is here. They are wasted without an audience.”
“The truth is never wasted, and I couldn’t care less if anyone is here or not.”
He stalked toward her, drawn to her by the need that constantly thrummed in his veins. She took a step backwards toward the door, but he caught her around the waist before she could escape.
Jules pressed her hands against his chest. “Wolf, what are you doing?”
“Kissing you. I should think it were obvious.”
“But my dress—”
He cut off her objections by sealing his lips over hers. Desperate to taste her unique blend of sweet and spicy, he drove his tongue past her lips and teeth to explore her mouth. A soft little moan escaped her as she pressed closer to him, as though seeking his warmth. His cock lengthened and grew hard while they continued to feast on each other. Finally, on the verge of doing something unthinkable, he tried to pull back.
But she clung to him and whispered, “I need you. I need your hands on me.”
With a groan, he sank deeper into the kiss, and reached down to hitch her skirts up. Pawing at her petticoats and crinolines, he finally found her pantalets. With her skirts crushed between them, he delved through the opening and found her wet center. She moaned as he stroked along her slit, rubbed over her clit, and then pushed a finger inside her.
With a soft gasp, she clenched around him as he slipped his finger in and out. Lost in the throes of pleasure, she broke off the kiss as he circled her clit. And then she cried out as she came, dousing his fingers.
He captured her lips once more to smother her cries of pleasure. Trembling in his arms, she slowly regained awareness. Her eyes were wide as she regained control over her body and straightened up. With her cheeks flushed—either from her climax, or from embarrassment, he couldn’t be sure—she ducked away from him. Giving him her back, she proceeded to shake out her skirts.
He took a moment to gather together the threads of his control. He needed to tamp down his own lust. The woman pushed him to the edge of sanity, it seemed, but he couldn’t remember feeling that way about her a decade ago. Without a doubt, he’d loved her then, but it had been—even for him—a young, naïve emotion. An experience fraught with stolen kisses, gentle touches, and restrained desire. Maybe curiosity more than anything.
It wasn’t that he had been inexperienced then, but conceivably he’d seen Jules in a different light?
He’d been raised to see a gentlewoman and act accordingly.
But now?
After the auction at The Market, sharing her with Linc, and their night together alone, his perspective had changed. Jules was no less a lady now than she’d been before, but his understanding of women and their innate desires had greatly expanded. His awareness of her needs had also changed. She was a woman who embraced her own natural instincts and needs.
How could he not feel differently? Not embrace her willingness to indulge in sexual pleasure? After all, he was merely a man. Whether his heart was engaged or not, his libido certainly was.
A sharp knock at the door drew his attention back to the moment. He turned, and his gaze locked with hers.
Dear God, the woman absolutely simmered with passion.
“We will discuss this interlude later, Jules.”
Chapter 13
Julia’s heart still raced, and she was positive her cheeks were flushed. They still felt warm after that unexpected moment in Wolf’s arms. As his friends walked in, she tried to smooth the creases in her skirts that his amorous attentions had caused. Not that she regretted either.
“Lady Wallthorpe, may I introduce Lord and Lady Stonemere?”
Wolf’s rumble sent shivers along her overstimulated frame.
The imposing man and his vivacious wife—she fairly sparkled with life—seemed an unlikely match. But then the man smiled indulgently as she tossed all formality out the window and hugged Julia. Shocked by the intimate gesture, Julia hugged her back.
“I’d apologize, but since we are going to be great friends, I figured we should dispense with all the pomp and circumstance up front. And please, call me Theo.” Then the slightly shorter woman stepped back. “Stone, say hello, and stop looming.”
He rolled his eyes at his wife and took Julia’s hand, bowing over it. “Lady Wallthorpe, a pleasure to meet you.”
She smiled at the couple. “Please, call me Julia. Both of you.”
Then
Wolf motioned another couple forward. “And this is Lord and Lady Brougham.”
The handsome blond man would have made Greek statues weep for his beauty, and with his equally lovely wife by his side, they made a stunning pair. He, too, bowed over Julia’s hand. “A pleasure, my lady.”
“Julia, please. Such formality seems a bit overdone, as you are all friends of Wolf’s.”
She drew her hand back, only to have Lord Brougham’s wife pull her into an embrace, as well.
The women were quite the hugging group, weren’t they? Julia smothered the laugh that threatened to escape.
“Please, call me Emily. It’s a good thing you’ve given in to the informality already. Theo is a bit of a runaway locomotive when she has determined she will be friends with someone.”
The pretty brunette winked at her, and then cast a fond smile at Theo.
The other woman merely grinned. “She’s not wrong.”
And then she shrugged as everyone chuckled.
Another knock heralded the arrival of the last of their party, though a lone man walked in. He was around the same height as Wolf, but his hair was as dark as night. In contrast, his eyes were bright blue—though something dark lurked behind them, making the fine hairs on the back of Julia’s neck rise up. While the man appeared pleasant enough, there was a menacing quality to him.
“Flint, you’re late,” Wolf said, by way of greeting.
He tugged at his coat sleeves. “Apologies, I ran into a few issues.”
Wolf’s brow rose, but he quickly shifted topics. “And where is Linc?”
“Afraid he won’t make it. Came down with whatever Dunmere has.”
Wolf groaned. “Well, doesn’t that beat all?” He frowned and looked at her. “Sorry, Jules. Seems Ros’ suitor is not going to make an appearance this evening.”
Disappointment and worry seized her lungs. “Oh, no.”
“Who isn’t making an appearance?” Ros asked, as she floated into the room, glowing and smiling at the group.
Sometimes it unnerved Julia how quiet her sister could be, even when wearing layers of crinolines and fabric. “The man who’d agreed to act as your suitor has taken ill, I’m afraid.”
Ros’ smile faded. “Oh, why, that’s terrible news. I do hope he will be all right.”
The dark-haired man stepped forward then, his gaze locked on Ros. “It’s just a cold. He should be fine in a few days.”
Her sister looked up at him, and seemed to hesitate before she spoke. “Th-that’s good.”
Did her sister just stutter?
Julia had never heard a misfired syllable from Ros in all her life. How odd. “Well, I suppose we shall have to close ranks around Ros then during the ball. I had hoped having an obvious suitor would stave off Wallthorpe.”
“I’ll act as her suitor.”
The dark man—Flint—boldly made the offer as he stepped closer to Ros.
She immediately turned a fetching shade of pink.
Wolf looked as worried as Julia felt. “Are you sure, Flint? It can’t be just for tonight. This issue may drag on for a bit.”
Flint stole another look at Ros, and then nodded. “I’ll not let anything happen to such a lovely lady.”
Julia’s internal alarm sounded as she watched the byplay between the two. “Wolf, perhaps you should introduce your friend, before we make any changes to the plan?”
“Apologies, Lady Wallthorpe, Mrs. Smith. May I present Lord Flintshire?”
He bowed over each of their hands, though he lingered much longer—obviously so—over Ros’s.
“My lord.” Her sister’s breathless reply continued to cause concern for Julia.
“As I said, I’d be happy to offer my protection, if Mrs. Smith requires it.” Flint repeated the offer once more, his words not revealing any strong emotion, one way or the other. Yet his intense gaze continued to drift to where Ros stood.
Wolf and Julia spoke at the same time, tripping over each other.
“Excellent!” he said.
“No need, my lord,” she replied, and narrowed her gaze at Wolf.
Everyone looked at her in surprise.
“Well, we can simply close ranks, as I suggested before. Then, when Lord Lincolnshire is feeling better, he can take up the role, as previously planned.”
Flint tensed at this, his hands fisting.
“Julia, I would feel better accepting Lord Flintshire’s offer.” Ros’ softly spoken assertion caused the obvious tension in the man to relax.
It shocked Julia to see such a physical reaction from him. Warily, she glanced back and forth between the pair, and then her gaze finally settled on her sister. “If you’re sure. I want you to be comfortable with this.”
Ros looked up at Flint and smiled softly. “Yes, I’m quite sure.”
“Well, now that that has been decided, perhaps we should go?” Wolf motioned the group toward the front door.
The ballroom was packed to the gills, as expected. Julia stood shoulder to shoulder with Wolf, and tried not to focus on her whirlwind of thoughts. Her mind kept circling back to her sister, who stood beside Flint, and then to the shared moments with Wolf, before everyone else had arrived. Her body kept swinging between hot and cold, even as she scanned the crowd for signs of Wallthorpe.
“Perchance you should attempt to appear to be enjoying my company?” Amusement tinged Wolf’s voice.
She huffed in response. “I am too busy worrying over Wallthorpe, and now my sister and your friend.” She angled closer to him. “Did you see how Ros behaved with him? I haven’t seen her act in such a fashion since her late husband was alive.”
“Do not make more of what is likely to be only a passing curiosity for them.” He stroked her shoulder with his gloved hand, sending goosebumps rippling over her skin.
“Possibly.”
She wanted to agree with him, but some part of her refused to let go of her concern. Then a movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention. She cast her gaze to her right, and found Wallthorpe moving toward their group. “Here he comes.”
Wolf made some movement with his hand, and Flint swept Ros away, along with Cooper and Emily.
Julia and Wolf faced her pesky suitor together.
“Good evening, Wolfington, Lady Wallthorpe,” he said, as he bowed to each in turn.
“Wallthorpe,” Wolf replied, almost growling at the man.
Wallthorpe glanced at Stonemere and Theo, who stood behind them. “And where is that lovely sister of yours?”
Julia took a breath, and hoped their gamble would pay off. “I believe she is off spending time with her suitor.”
Wallthorpe’s gaze narrowed. “Suitor? I had not realized Mrs. Smith had garnered such attention.”
“Yes, well, it seems she has. I believe you are acquainted with Lord Flintshire?” Julia worked to keep her features in a neutral place. It wouldn’t do to sneer at the man.
Wallthorpe paled.
She found it a strange response, but if the mere mention of Lord Flintshire caused such a reaction, maybe his supposed interest in Ros would be more than enough to keep her safe.
Her stepson visibly swallowed. “I’m surprised you would allow such a brute near your tenderhearted sister.”
“Yes, well, the heart does as the heart wants. I’m afraid they took an instant liking to each other upon a casual meeting.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “You can imagine everyone’s surprise at the discovery.”
“Indeed,” Wallthorpe drawled. “Well, it was lovely visiting with you both.”
And then he moved along, through the crowd. Julia watched him closely as he crossed the room, and then made his way toward the foyer of the Weatherly’s home.
Wolf captured her hand between his big palms. “Jules, are you well?”
She drew a deep breath. “I believe I am. He seemed rather disconcerted by Flint’s pursuit of Ros.”
Wolf grunted in reply.
Her curiosity piqued, she turned to face him
. As always, his chiseled features elicited her admiration and had her heart skipping necessary beats. “Is there ought I should know of his character? I must say, Wallthorpe’s reaction makes me curious to know more about him, particularly as he called him a brute.”
Wolf shoved a finger into his collar, and seemed to be seeking a bit more room. “Well, he does have a bit of a reputation as a boxer.”
Julia stared at Wolf. “A boxer? That seems a bit mundane for such a reaction. Many gentlemen box. What aren’t you telling me?”
He looked down at his feet. “He is also something of a bare-knuckle brawler.”
Julia could not hide the horror she felt. “Wolf! You cannot mean to say you have sent my sister off in the clutches of such a man?”
“Do not be so overdramatic. Not only is Flint a perfect gentleman, but he would never dream of hurting your sister. And if Wallthorpe were to become overly aggressive, Flint would be the man to call on to end such behavior.”
“I suppose that may be true. But I do not like their pairing, even if it is a hoax.”
She turned to find her sister among the crowd. When she spied Ros across the ballroom, her sister’s cheeks were pink as she held on to Flint’s arm.
Neither Julia nor her sister were in great demand for dances, so they were free to dance or not as they wished. She watched the couple for a while, and noticed that as the man loomed over her sister, most of the men who had claimed a dance with her approached, but never made it close enough to claim their partner.
She couldn’t be sure if Flint caused them to scamper on purpose. It could merely be a byproduct of his brutish presence or, she supposed, his reputation alone repelled the less intrepid men. Nevertheless, Ros did not seem at all perturbed to be standing next to him. In fact, she glowed.
A waltz was then announced, and Julia decided it was time to cease worrying about her sister. She was clearly safe for the moment. “Wolf, come dance with me.”
“Only if you are finished brooding about your sister.” He let one brow arch, which caused her own cheeks to heat.
Friends could be such a hassle.
His Scandalous Viscountess (Lustful Lords Series Book 3) Page 10