by Olivia Drake
Tempt Me Twice
Olivia Drake
Contents
Tempt Me Twice
Acknowledgments
Prologue
1. A Beastly Visitor
2. The Guardian
3. The Lucifer League
4. Hidden Treasure
5. An Unwelcome Offer
6. The Black Sheep
7. The Rosebuds
8. Confessions of a Slave
9. The Skull-Faced Man
10. Pistols at Dawn
11. Jabbar’s Escape
12. A Dangerous Woman
13. Meeting at Midnight
14. Lucy’s Plan
15. Surprise in the Attic
16. The Fraudulent Footman
17. The Egyptian
18. The Locked Room
19. A Chance Encounter
20. The Purloined Key
21. A Narrow Escape
22. The Light in the Window
23. The Guardian’s Demand
24. The Lost Button
25. In the Dungeon
26. The Inmost Cave
27. Ritual Sacrifice
28. The Renegade Demon
29. Kate’s Decision
30. The Goddess
Also by Olivia Drake
About the Author
Tempt Me Twice
The Rosebuds series, Book 2
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Winner, RWA Rita Award
Romantic Times KISS Award and Top Pick
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“A delectable, fast-paced tale with charming characters…great dialogue and heart-melting love scenes make this one a book you don’t want to miss.” –The Oakland Press
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“The story line is exciting, loaded with intrigue, and never slows down for a breather as the plot spins to a fabulous climax.” –Reviewer’s Book Watch
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“Kate is a fine heroine with both pluck and sense. The Rosebuds and their kin are a delight!” –The Best Reviews
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“Excellent characters in a solid plot with a believable and enjoyable love story…TEMPT ME TWICE has all the markings of an entertaining and worthwhile read, and I highly recommend it.” –All About Romance
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“One of the best romances of the year!” –Doubleday Book Club
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Tempt Me Twice
Copyright 2001 © by Barbara Dawson Smith
Ebook ISBN: 9781641970990
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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Acknowledgments
Thanks to Joyce Bell, Christina Dodd, Betty Gyenes, and Susan Wiggs—fellow writers and dear friends. Thanks also to Marilyn Clay and Margaret Evans Porter for their timely research help, and to Connie Brockway for adding the right twist at the right time. Jennifer Enderlin, Matthew Shear, and the fine folks at St. Martin’s Press have my continued appreciation. Lastly, my heartfelt gratitude goes to all the booksellers, librarians, and readers who have read and recommended my books. Bless you, everyone!
Prologue
Oxford, England 1808
Not for the first time in his life, Lord Gabriel Kenyon discovered a lovely girl waiting in his bed. But for once he was too stunned to relish the sight.
Kate Talisford sat huddled against the pillows, the white counterpane drawn up to her chin. The light from the candle on the bedside table glowed on her pert nose and high cheekbones, the curly red-gold hair that spilled over her shoulders. Her wide green eyes revealed a blend of wariness and bravado.
She looked like a virgin sacrifice.
Aware that her parents and sister occupied rooms nearby, Gabe eased the door shut. In a stern whisper, he said, “What the deuce are you doing here?”
“I’m waiting for you, milord.”
Her honeyed voice and alluring smile startled him anew. He shouldn’t be lusting after Professor Henry Talisford’s adolescent daughter. “It’s past midnight,” Gabe snapped. “Get back to your own chamber this instant.”
“No. I’ve something to tell you.” Watching him with a fervid, almost fearful intensity, she sat up straighter, the coverlet clutched to her throat. “Something important.”
“We can talk in the morning.”
“But you’re leaving in the morning. You and Papa.”
Of course, she only wished to quarrel again. While he’d been downstairs in the study, poring over the map of Africa with Professor Talisford, Kate had been plotting this last-ditch battle to stop him. She must have slipped beneath his bedcovers to stay warm in the chilly night air.
He was perverted to think she’d come to make him a lewd offer.
Stepping around the open trunk in the middle of the small chamber, Gabe approached the bed, which was nestled beneath the sloping eaves. “I’m sorry you’re distraught. But you can’t stop us from departing.”
“Oh?” she said in the sugary, un-Kate-like voice that played havoc with his imagination. “If you’d listen to what I have to say—”
“There’s no point in wasting your breath.” In a firm, big-brother tone, Gabe went on. “You’re of an age to know better than to visit a man in his bedchamber. If anyone finds you here, your reputation will suffer.”
She scooted backward against the pillows. “Don’t treat me like a child. I’m a woman now.”
So he could see. All the more reason for him to depart on the morrow. “You’re sixteen and still in the schoolroom.”
“I’m nearly seventeen...and I happen to be in your bed.”
“Exactly where you shouldn’t be,” he said, reaching across the coverlet for her hand. “Now run along. It’s too late to bicker.”
“I’m not here to bicker.” Her white teeth chafing her lower lip, Kate regarded him with that curious aura of seductress and schoolgirl. Then she drew a deep breath and, with a dramatic sweep of her arm, flung back the coverlet. “My darling Gabriel, don’t leave me. I love you too much. I vow I’ll die without you!”
A modest white nightgown cloaked her from throat to toes, though Gabe could see the hint of feminine curves.
He stood, paralyzed, his hand outstretched and his mind in the gutter.
Forcing a laugh, he lowered his arm. “Only yesterday you put salt in my tea and water in my inkwell. What was that colorful description you used? Ah, yes, you said I was a louse who deserved to be squashed.”
“I was hiding my real feelings,” Kate said with theatrical passion. She slid out of bed to stand before him, her hands clasped so tightly the knuckles showed white. “But this is my last chance to confess the truth,” she recited in a rush. “I’ve loved you from the moment you came to draw sketches for Papa’s book. You’re the handsomest, most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”
“Balderdash,” he said. Her confession had a rehearsed quality that nonetheless stirred him. “You can’t know more than a dozen men—and that includes the baker, the greengrocer, and the vicar.”
“I know my own heart,” she said, her voice quavering a little. “Plea
se, let me show you how much I love you. Make me yours, darling.”
She threw herself at him so unexpectedly, he almost fell over the trunk with its load of clothing and paints and sketchpads. By instinct, he caught her in his arms. Her soft breasts made a cushion against his chest, imprinting him with the forbidden warmth of nubile youth.
Just as swiftly, he thrust her away. “Don’t be absurd. I’m ten years your elder and not in the habit of seducing naïve girls.”
“I’m not naïve,” she insisted. “I know all about what men do with women.”
“I rather doubt that.”
A charming blush tinted her fair skin. “I do. They...kiss. On the lips.”
“Far more than that.”
“They lie together, too. In bed.”
Her clear-eyed expression proved that she didn’t understand the particulars. Despite the serious circumstances, he fought back a grin. “The woman also must remove every stitch of her clothing. She must permit the man to touch her as he wills, no matter how embarrassing the act might be.”
Kate blinked rapidly. The blush on her cheeks deepened to a rosy hue. “Fanny says it’s the greatest pleasure in all the world.”
“Fanny,” he scoffed, picturing the bold maidservant with her horse teeth and frizzy hair. “So that’s who taught you your shameless behavior. I’ll speak to your mother about having her replaced.”
“All Mama thinks about is her gardening...and all I think about is you, milord.”
Kate kept her determined gaze trained on him as her slim fingers plucked at the fastening of her bodice. A button went flying, landing on the planked floor with a tiny ping, but she paid no heed. Sweat broke out on his brow. He could see the taut peaks of her breasts. Her ripe, womanly breasts.
With an age-old charm, she murmured, “Please, Gabriel, don’t go to Africa. Don’t take my father away. If you withdraw your funding, he won’t be able to afford the trip. He’ll stay home, where he belongs. And in return, I’ll be...your mistress.”
For one mad moment, his loins controlled his logic. He wanted to see her naked, to kiss her senseless, to tumble her down onto the linens...
Snatching a shirt from the trunk, he hurled it at her. “Cover yourself.”
Kate clutched the garment to her bosom. “But...you said the woman must remove her clothing.”
“I didn’t mean you,” he said through gritted teeth. “I was trying to make you see your own error.”
“It’s no error,” she declared, her chin held at a defiant tilt. “I’ll do anything to keep my family together.”
“It would shatter your family if they found out you’d sold yourself to a man.”
Her gaze wavered. “Papa needn’t know. He’s too wrapped up in his books.”
That much was true. Surrounded by the ancient tomes and artifacts in his study, Henry Talisford could go all day without remembering to eat, let alone paying heed to a household of females. Cordelia Talisford, too, pottered in her flower garden with only a distracted regard for her two daughters. Kate and twelve-year-old Meg were left to run wild under the dubious supervision of a few servants.
Striving for paternal firmness, Gabe grasped Kate’s arm and propelled her toward the door. “I decline your proposal. And don’t you ever again show such idiocy as to offer yourself to any man other than your future husband.”
Kate dug in her bare heels. With a stubborn fierceness, she turned on him. “This expedition is idiocy, that’s what. Papa is a scholar, not an adventurer. He’s far too old to survive a trek through the jungle and desert.”
“He’s forty, and in the prime of his life. Like me, he’s been longing to explore Africa since he was a boy.”
“No, he hasn’t! I would have known. He would have told me.”
The glimpse of pain in her struck Gabe with guilt, a guilt he steeled himself to ignore. “You should be proud of him—he wants to give you and your sister a legacy. When we find that ruined city, we’ll bring back enough gold and ivory to make you and your family very rich, indeed.”
Kate crossed her arms. “I don’t need wealth. I’m not a noble wastrel like you, squandering money on a foolish expedition.”
“There’s nothing foolish about it. The professor found a reference to the ancient city in a stack of dusty old manuscripts. I know the treasure is there, just waiting to be discovered.”
Even as he spoke, Gabe knew that no woman could understand his burning purpose. He and Henry Talisford would be searching for a fabled lost civilization buried deep in the wilds of Abyssinia, beyond the uncharted source of the Nile. His fingers itched to draw all the strange new sights that no other explorer had seen before. At last he would step out of the shadow of his older brothers and achieve a renown of his own.
Michael and Joshua had disliked the notion of him setting off into dangerous, unknown territory, but at least they’d sent him on his way with a slap on the back and an admonition to take care. As for Grandmama, well, no female could fathom a man’s thirst for adventure.
“Professor Talisford and I shall depart for the coast at first light,” Gabe stated. “Nothing you say or do can change that.”
“No!” Kate said wildly. “I’ll follow you, then. I’ll go with you and Papa. You can’t stop me!”
With the mane of unruly red-gold hair rippling around her shoulders, she looked as fierce as a Celtic princess. He had to put an end to her folly, once and for all. “We’ll send you straight back, then,” he said harshly. “Neither your father nor I have any use for an irksome little girl.”
She flinched, her lower lip quivering. The wounded look in her eyes was almost more than he could bear. On a choked sob, she hurled the shirt back at him. “I loathe you, Gabriel Kenyon. I’ll loathe you forever. I hope you die in that jungle!” Then she darted out of the chamber, and her pattering footsteps vanished down the corridor.
Gabe crouched down to pick up the small white button that had lately graced her bosom. He despised hurting Kate, but even more, he despised himself for desiring her. Why the hell should he feel so remorseful, anyway? Someday, she’d thank him for saving her from her own foolishness.
Muttering a curse, he flung the button onto the empty bed.
A Beastly Visitor
Oxford, England 1812
“I have the best news,” Meg cried out, dancing into the parlor of Larkspur Cottage, her pelisse swirling around her black mourning gown. “Actually, two bits of wonderful news.”
Straightening her aching back, Kate Talisford looked up from her packing and smiled as her younger sister plopped the market basket onto a cane-bottomed chair. Meg brought a ray of sunshine into the gloomy, partially stripped parlor. Their late mother’s collection of floral paintings had been sold, leaving lighter squares against the age-dulled paneling. The oak bookshelves stood bare and forlorn with only a few wisps of dust scattered here and there. A daily maid helped out with the heavier tasks like the scrubbing and the laundry, but lately Kate had been too busy to do any other cleaning. To see their childhood home reduced to such a state left her feeling as hollow as the half-empty rooms, and she welcomed Meg’s return.
“What news, dearest?” Kate asked, wrapping a silver candlestick in a length of old flannel. “Has Mrs. Wooster had her baby?”
“Gracious, no. She was waddling around the market like a fat Christmas goose. But here’s what I wanted to show you.” Rummaging in her basket, Meg pulled forth a bedraggled bit of paper. Her shoes made a light scuffing sound on the shabby rug as she hastened forward to thrust a handbill at Kate. “Look, the traveling players are in town! I just now saw them setting up their tent at the edge of Christchurch meadow. There’ll be games and a puppet show and booths selling sweets. Oh, may we go to the fair this evening?”
Setting down the candlestick, Kate glanced over the advertisement, and for a moment, she caught her sister’s excitement. How she wanted to watch the juggler and the magician, to laugh at the antics of the jesters and to savor hot meat pasties and sugary com
fits. A few hours of escape tempted her. But practicality squashed her longing. “We mustn’t squander our savings,” she said regretfully, handing back the paper. “And don’t forget, we’ve quite a lot of packing yet to do.”
“We could stroll around without purchasing anything.” Meg clasped her hands to her bosom. “Do say yes. I believe I shall die if I don’t go.”
Kate couldn’t help smiling. Meg reminded her of herself at the tender age of sixteen, when she too had viewed the world as an unfinished canvas, full of rich color and exciting possibilities, her soul brimming over with fervent yearnings. And the zenith of her youthful madness had taken place in an upstairs bedchamber, when she’d thrown herself at an unsavory adventurer.
She shut the door on that wretched memory, unwilling to probe the ashes of anger. Dwelling on past mistakes accomplished nothing. Rather, she was grateful for the humiliating experience, for it had taught her the value of caution and sober sensibility. It had been a first, painful step toward maturity.
“We’ll see about the fair,” she said noncommittally. “It depends on how much work we can accomplish in the meantime.” When Meg opened her mouth to plead again, Kate held up her hand. “Now, what is your second bit of news?”
