A Lady's Ruinous Plan

by Lora Darling

  As much as Adrien craved the feel of her draped across his lap with her womanly core riding the ridge in his breeches and her breasts taunting within the confines of her bodice, if she balked, he would put an end to this rendezvous. If, after that, she still wished to ruin her reputation, they would simply choose another time and place after she had had enough time to come to terms with all that her ruination involved.

  She did not, however, balk.

  Gathering her skirts, she swung a leg over his thighs and settled against his groin like a woman born to the saddle. It took him a moment to breathe, and when he finally could, the action shuddered through him with enough vibration to make Eirene’s breasts tremble. God, give him strength.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  He shook his head, then unclenched his jaw lest she assume he lied. “You are fine.” Fine. He should go directly to hell for using such an inane word to describe the feel of her perched upon his lap. The tension in her thigh muscles alone nearly stole his ability to recall his name.

  She shifted a little to the left then to the right. Doing so fitted her core tight against his erection. He nearly bit his tongue in half silencing a moan of torturous pleasure.

  “What do we do now?” The innocence in her voice belied the heat radiating from between her thighs.

  Adrien gathered his wits and lightly clasped her waist. “Honestly, we need do nothing. Being discovered thus would certainly be enough to cause a scandal.”

  Given the drape of her skirts over his legs, no one would have been able to definitively say what had or had not been going on under the gold fabric. Given the lust for gossip among the ton, most would assume the worst and Eirene’s reputation would be in shambles.

  Mission accomplished.

  Now if only someone would come through the door before he lost the ability to keep his hands, mouth, and other parts of his body to himself.

  Chapter Nine

  Eirene stared at the man sprawled beneath her. The feel of him between her thighs was rather spectacular but, strangely, it could not quite compete with the sight of him. He had dropped his head back to look her in the eyes, and the position created a work of art worthy of being cast in marble. Neck chorded with tension, jaw clenched, nostrils flared, tousled hair spilled over the settee’s wooden back, eyes bright with… Well, she imagined they were bright with lust, given the hardness within the fall of his breeches. She had not missed the way his body responded to her attempt to find a more comfortable position.

  A tiny devil whispered in her ear to wiggle some more, to maybe press her breasts against his chest as well. Where such thoughts came from, she had not a clue, but she could not deny the strength of the temptation, not while the taste of his kiss lingered on and in her mouth. He might claim they need not do more than appear engaged in an illicit embrace, but she found herself wanting more than mere appearances. What a waste it would be to have such a fine man all but at her mercy and not be able to recall the feel of his skin beneath her fingers or the feel of his fingers upon her skin.

  No. She would not spend the rest of her days living with such a regret. It was one thing to wish never to marry, it was quite another to ignore a chance to make a lasting memory.

  “I believe it would be best if we made it look a little more believable.” While she spoke, she reached for the edge of her bodice. There was a narrow ribbon, hidden amongst the gold embroidery. Its purpose, to cinch the bodice tight across her bosom and enhance the appearance of her cleavage. She located the short, trailing ends of the ribbon and tugged. The material loosened as she exhaled, exposing a goodly amount of her short stays.

  “That is not necessary.” He covered her hands with his, then shook his head when she lifted her gaze. “Most ballroom assignations are conducted without the removal of one’s clothing.”

  Eirene arched a brow. “Are you an expert on such things, monsieur?”

  “Is that not why you secured my particular services?”

  “An odd inquiry from the very man who claimed I should not believe all I have read about him.”

  “Touché, my lady, but it does not alter the fact you need not remove any clothing.”

  She held his gaze, allowing herself to marvel at the stormy depths of his eyes. “And if I wish to remove my clothing, monsieur?”

  He did not respond right away. In fact, the silence threatened to become unsettling.

  Driven to the edge of her patience, Eirene was the first to speak. “Adrien?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Now you decide to call me something other than Benoit.” Again, he shook his head. “You are determined to drive me mad, I fear.”

  She had no idea how to respond, nor did he really offer her the chance. Withdrawing his hand from hers, he lowered it to the cushion beside his hip, mirroring the placement of his other hand. Doing so, pulled at his gaping collar and captured her avid gaze.

  “Je me rends.” I surrender.

  Her grandfather had always told her, when an enemy surrenders, do not hesitate, do not allow them the chance to contemplate their decision, do not falter in doing what had to be done. Of course, Adrien was not her enemy and this was not a field of battle, but the lesson could still be applied. She wasted no time in taking advantage of his acquiesce.

  The top half of his shirt parted under her touch. She pulled the linen wide, exposing his right nipple, the dark, coppery disc surrounding it, and a smattering of hairs that matched the tawny shade of his brows. She laid her finger over his nipple without thinking. His breath hitched, forcing her gaze to his face. He had his eyes closed and his head thrown all the way back. The chords of his neck called to her in a way she feared might be more feral than domestic. But it was a siren call she was too weak to resist.

  Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to the side of his neck. His flesh was hot against her mouth, his pulse rapid. She flicked out her tongue, causing him to swallow. The action bobbed his Adam’s apple against her cheek. It was a most singular sensation. Another flick of her tongue prompted the same response, but when she ran her tongue up his neck toward his jaw, his reaction was much different. Burying a hand in the back of her hair, he pulled her away from his neck.

  Gasping, Eirene stared down at Adrien’s eyes, open and dark as a storm cloud.

  “Was that unpleasant?” Simply because she enjoyed the feel of his mouth upon her neck did not guarantee he had enjoyed hers upon his.

  He shook his head, then used the grip in her hair to force her mouth down upon his. The kiss curled her toes with its ferocity. He attacked with all weapons firing. Lips angled to force hers wide for the hard thrust of his tongue, teeth nipping at her bottom lip as he withdrew before unleashing another assault. When he sucked her full upper lip into his mouth, she melted into his embrace with a shuddering moan.

  “You taste like heaven and smell like home.” He spoke against her mouth, getting the words out in between drags upon her upper lip. “Holding you, kissing you, is like lying in a warm field of wildflowers.”

  Eirene pushed against his chest in order to end the kiss. She licked the taste of him from her lips while staring into his steady gaze. “With such honeyed words, it is no wonder ladies fall at your feet each season.”

  He sat up, forcing their bodies closer and their eyes level. “I have never spoken those words to another.”

  His intensity frightened her. No. She was not being honest. Her reaction to his intensity frightened her. His words did strange things to her insides. Her heart stuttered. Her lungs began to burn. Were her eyes watering?

  Eirene blinked away the moisture. “This is not going the way I had planned.”

  “I did warn you it might not.”

  “I can be a bit stubborn.”

  He laughed at that, the response shaking his body and, in turn, hers. Yet another singular sensation she was not likely to forget any time soon.

  “What are we to do now?” Her voice shook around the question.

  “We should stop.”r />
  “Stop? Why?” There was no need to have oodles of experience to know he was aroused. His pulse raced as quickly as hers. His skin felt just as hot. She imagined her eyes shone just as bright as well. She had tasted his arousal in his kiss. She could feel it pressed between her thighs.

  “We should stop because I do not want to.”

  After a moment of trying to sort the riddle, she shook her head. “I’m not certain I understand.”

  “I want to make love to you, Eirene. I want it like I have never wanted anything else in my entire life, except maybe for the return of my parents, but I do not want it like this.” He shifted his gaze toward the small room at her back. “You deserve more than this as your first experience.”

  “I am not a virgin fresh from the school room, Adrien.”

  His gaze found hers once more. “No, but you are a virgin. You deserve better than a quick tup on a bloody uncomfortable settee. Hell, I want more than a quick tup on a bloody uncomfortable settee. I want you in my bed.”

  Eirene had to look away from Adrien’s expression. There was too much there for her to comprehend. Focusing on the hand she had spread against his chest, she shook her head. “It is not part of the plan to share your bed.”

  “To hell with your damn plan, Eirene.” He flexed his grip upon her hair to get her to look at him. “Do you truly think what is going on between us right now has anything to do with your scheme? Does what you’re feeling feel like a damn business arrangement?”

  She considered lying, but it was not within her power to hurt him, and she knew that particular falsehood would cause pain.

  “No, it does not.” Her honesty surprised him, and he made no attempt to hide the fact. “You expected me to deny it?”

  “Oui.”

  “My grandfather always told me it is the mark of strength to know when to admit you were wrong. I was wrong about all of this.” She tried to slide from his lap, but he loosed his grip from her hair and took hold of her waist with both hands, keeping her precisely where she was. “I should have chosen a different candidate. Westhaven, perhaps.”

  “Had you done that, I would have had to challenge Westhaven to a duel, and I’ve no wish to risk killing a friend.”

  She smiled at the jest. At least she hoped he spoke in jest. “This is a disaster.”

  Before Adrien could respond, a voice sounded from just outside the door. “For heaven’s sake, why the devil would my presence be required in a servant’s closet? I have a house full of guests. I cannot be expected to satisfy your every whim, Lucille. No wonder your husband—”

  “Do shut up and open the door, Mary.”

  The door opened. “Saints alive!” Lady Palmer’s shriek was a tad shy of glass shattering. She stood frozen in the doorway, staring at Eirene and Adrien, who stared back at her.

  Adrien broke the awkward silence first. “This is not what it looks like, my lady.”

  His voice seemed to snap Lady Palmer out of her trance. “I daresay it is precisely what it looks like, Monsieur Vicomte.”

  Her words were shrill and loud. Very loud. And they effectively called the flock to their leader. In seconds, or so it seemed, the corridor behind Lady Palmer’s quivering headpiece filled with the crème de la crème of London Society. They peered over her shoulder with wide eyes and feigned horror, all the while snickering behind their fans and eating up the sight of Adrien’s bared chest.

  It took every ounce of Eirene’s self-possession to recall this was precisely what she had planned to have happen. In fact, present circumstances exceeded her expectations for she had not imagined the lady of the house as key witness. No one would question Lady Palmer’s account of the incident. They would not dare.

  Lady Palmer’s focus zeroed in upon Eirene. “I must say, my lady, I am shocked. Beyond shocked, truth be told, that you would come into my house only to engage in…” She fluttered a gloved, bejeweled hand toward Adrien. “This.”

  “The lady is not to blame.” Adrien managed a quick glance toward Eirene before lifting her from his lap so he could stand. A collective sigh issued forth from their audience as he did so. With his waistcoat open and his shirt undone but still tucked in, there was nothing to hide the evidence of his arousal as it strained the confines of his tight breeches.

  To make matters worse, he spread his arms. “As you can see, ladies, nothing untoward has occurred.”

  Eirene gaped at Adrien. What was he doing? Aside from drawing attention to his…well, his… She glanced where all the other women were glancing. Why was he claiming nothing happened? That was most certainly not part of the plan.

  Lady Palmer let out a noise of abject disbelief. “My lord, we can all see quite clearly what was within moments of transpiring.” Her gaze flicked to Eirene, taking in the undone bodice and the excess of flesh above her stays. “I do hope you intend to accept this man’s proposal of marriage, my lady.”

  Eirene opened her mouth, but it was Adrien who spoke. “I’ve no intention to propose.” He glanced her way and winked. Ah. Smart man.

  “No intention of proposing?” Lady Palmer’s shriek sounded like a bad note on an out of tune violin. “You will most certainly propose to Lady Rowe-Weston, young man.”

  “I think not. “As calm as you please, Adrien began putting his clothes to rights. They all stared as he fashioned his cravat into an impressive knot without the aid of a mirror. When he was back in order, he turned to Eirene and bowed. “It has been my pleasure, my lady, though I do wish we had not been interrupted before I could enjoy more than just the fine taste of your lips.”

  Gasps, twitters, and a few sighs resulted from his shocking words.

  Eirene had no idea how to react. This was the plan. Well, maybe not The Plan, but he seemed intent upon upholding his end of the bargain despite the change in tactic. A wise woman, which she prided herself upon being, would cease gaping and play her part as well.

  She snapped her mouth closed and lifted her chin to stare down her nose. “You are a cad of the first order, Vicomte Benoit, to leave a lady unsatisfied after such boastful promises.”

  More gasps from the doorway.

  He bowed. “You need only name the time and place, and I will do my best to rectify your disappointment.”

  “Well!” Lady Palmer stalked farther into the room and halted before Adrien. Her headdress quivered with rage as she lifted a gloved hand and smacked him soundly across the face.

  Eirene pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

  Adrien clenched his jaw, then cocked his head to the left then right, as if working out any discomfort caused by Lady Palmer’s slap. “You possess a formidable strength, my lady.”

  Lady Palmer continued to quiver. “You will vacate my house this instant, you no good cad. As for you, my lady”—she turned her ire upon Eirene—“consider my son off limits.”

  With that, she gathered her skirts, tossed her head, and left the room. The other women, although seemingly reluctant to do so, followed in her wake.

  “Her son?”

  Eirene ignored Adrien’s question and collapsed onto the settee. “That was awful.” Her hands shook as she tried to retie her bodice ribbon.

  “Here, allow me.” Adrien crouched in front of her and shooed her hands away so that he might see to the task himself. With impressive efficiency, he executed the perfect little bow. “Are you all right?”

  She forced herself to look him in the eye. “I imagine, after all that, I am officially ruined.”

  “So it would appear.” He pushed to his feet, then paced away from her. The smallness of the room did not allow for much distance. Reaching the desk, he turned and leaned against it. “What happens now, Eirene?”

  “I suppose we should leave, as Lady Palmer—”

  “With us. What happens now, for us? Am I to bow over your hand, thank you for an entertaining evening, then see myself to hell?”

  She flinched. “Of course not.” She rubbed her damp palms along her skirt. “Why would you
even suggest such a thing?”

  “Because if you tell me our arrangement has been successfully concluded, or that my presence in your life is no longer required, or some other cold, calculating farewell, hell is precisely where you will send me.”

  She should have scolded him for being dramatic, but the words died in her throat. Legs trembling, heart racing, she stood. “We should be grateful Lady Palmer arrived when she did.” Though Adrien did not seem inclined toward gratefulness at the moment. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Had the situation progressed further, I imagine parting would prove more difficult.”

  “You admit to some difficulty in saying goodbye.” It was not a question, more a surprised statement that she might actually possess human emotion. Not that she blamed him for the tone. After all, she lived her life in a very precise fashion, one that did not allow for an onslaught of feeling.

  “Of course I find this difficult, monsieur.”

  “A few moments ago, I was Adrien.” He left the desk and closed the distance between them, but he did not touch her. She thanked the heavens for that small favor. “I do not wish for this to be the end, Eirene.”

  “You speak of wishing to have me in your bed.” Strange how easy it was to speak such bold words on the heels of their intimacy.

  He touched her then. Taking hold of her shoulders in his strong, sure hands and applying just enough pressure to ensure she paid close attention to his next words. “That is not all I want.”

  “Adrien, do not.” She lifted a hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I beg you to say no more. I submit that this was likely a horrible idea, but it is done, and I believe it has accomplished what I intended. Whatever might have stirred to life between us in this room must be laid to rest.” Did her words sound as hollow as she felt saying them?

  She lowered her hand. “I want you to be assured, the information you shared about your past will never cross my lips. Consider that your pay—”

  With a heated curse, he released her and stalked from the room.