The Charming Jezebel

by Farmer, Merry

  “No, I—”

  “I hear it is paradise,” Lord Ainsley went on without letting Lady Malvis get a word in. “The flora and fauna is second to none, and the ocean is the most alluring shade of azure. Or so I’ve been told. I haven’t actually been there myself yet. But I plan to. I don’t normally do much traveling.”

  Ophelia stepped away slowly as Lord Ainsley prattled on. He was a bore by any definition of the word, yet Lady Malvis smiled at him and appeared to hang on his every word as though he were the Prince of Wales. It was likely she had heard little after his admission of being a marquess with a fortune. Regardless of her motives, Ophelia wished the woman all the luck in the world as she backed far enough away to turn and run from the room.

  Chapter 4

  Within the hour, Caro had organized the game, chosen a trusted friend to hide first at the far end of the house, and roused nearly all of the guests to participate. Ophelia stood in awe of her friend’s ability not only to manage things, but to do so without the slightest hint that anything secretive was underway.

  “With this many participants, the game may take hours to unfold,” Caro told Ophelia as the two of them stood in Hadnall Heath’s entry hall, watching otherwise proper ladies and gentlemen scurrying about, poking their heads into small rooms and whispering to the servants in an attempt to glean information that would give them an edge in the game. “The way so many heads turned when I hinted there would be a prize at the end similar to the one at the finale of the treasure hunt, I am quite certain everyone in the house will be occupied.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Ophelia said, pressing a hand to her stomach.

  “Now all that remains is to scrounge up the promised prize,” Caro sighed. “I’m afraid everyone will be twice as restless if I don’t.”

  “As long as they stay away from the kitchen door,” Saif said in a quiet voice as he approached the two of them.

  “Is everything ready?” Ophelia whispered, grasping his forearm when he came close.

  Saif’s brow inched up as he studied her hands on his sleeve, then he smiled at her in a way that made butterflies explode in her gut. “The Marlowe sisters are waiting in the servant’s stairway,” he said, quiet enough so as not to be heard by the giggling couple that rushed past.

  The couple darted around a passing servant and scurried up the stairs, blushing furiously. Ophelia had to swallow a guilty laugh. It seemed as though her idea for a game might be just the thing that certain people needed to steal away for an uninterrupted assignation, and with all the empty bedrooms in the house….

  Her grip on Saif’s sleeve tightened for a moment before she forced herself to let go. The intensity in his eyes took on a warmer glow, so much so that she found herself burning from the inside out. The sweet sensations his kiss had stirred up in her returned full force and her gaze dropped to his lips. What sort of exotic methods of lovemaking did a gentleman like him know?

  She cleared her throat and shook her head slightly, scolding herself for letting flights of fancy take her when the Marlowe sisters so desperately needed her help.

  “We must go to them,” she whispered, shifting so that she took Saif’s hand. “They may need us for courage.”

  “Go, go.” Caro encouraged them with a wave.

  Ophelia and Saif hurried down the hall into the east wing, dodging a few more groups and individuals who were deeply involved in the hunt.

  “I heard someone found Miss Coughlin in that room beside the Spanish parlor,” Saif said, leaning toward Ophelia as if the information were meant only for her, but speaking loud enough for anyone passing to hear.

  His ploy had its desired result. A murmur went up from a passing group of ladies, a gentleman stuck his head out of one of the side rooms, and within seconds, half a dozen people were speeding away from the east wing toward the center of the house.

  “How very clever of you,” Ophelia said with a giggle.

  “There’s more cleverness where that came from,” he said with a wink that made her insides buzz.

  The servant’s hall was a mass of chaos, as Ophelia fully expected it to be with so many guests in residence. An army of footmen were busy cleaning the silver that had been used for breakfast and luncheon that morning while maids of all types crisscrossed the halls with gowns in need of repair for various guests, cleaning implements, and trays of tea for snacks. The kitchen itself was a veritable bee hive of chopping, boiling, kneading, washing, and baking. A riot of scents filled the air, from bread to roasting meat to caustic soaps. For a brief moment, Ophelia wondered how any servant could ever hear themselves think let alone perform their jobs so admirably.

  “You came to see us off,” Alice Marlowe called to them from the pantry nearest the kitchen door.

  Ophelia and Saif hurried across the busy kitchen to them. Alice looked anxious, Lettuce determined, but poor Imogen was already in tears.

  “She doesn’t want to go so far away from Lord Thaddeus,” Lettuce explained.

  “But does Lord Thaddeus not live in London when he is not visiting Hadnall Heath?” Ophelia asked.

  “He does,” Imogen said reluctantly.

  All three sisters carried bags or cases of various sorts, none of them very large.

  “Are you ready for your flight?” Saif asked, ushering them all outside, into a driving rain.

  A plain, black carriage was waiting in the kitchen yard. Saif helped each of the sisters into the conveyance, then handed them a small but heavy-looking sack.

  “This should see you all the way to London,” he said with a kind smile. “Take care to stay only in the cleanest-looking inns along the way. Do not speak to strangers. And above all, do whatever you can to make it seem as though you are traveling with a protector when you are not in the carriage.”

  “Yes,” Alice nodded, looking more frightened than ever.

  “Thank you for your help,” Lettuce said. “I don’t know how we shall ever repay you.”

  “There is no need,” Saif said.

  He stepped back, giving Ophelia a chance to hug her friends goodbye. Out of necessity, it was a quick parting. Once it was done, she stepped back, Saif shut the carriage door, and the sisters were off.

  “We’d better get inside and out of these wet things,” Saif said, drawing Ophelia back toward the kitchen.

  A shiver of promise swirled through her at his words, though she didn’t think he meant them salaciously. Then again, the way he paused just inside the kitchen doorway to sweep her from head to toe with a look that could have warmed her to the point of being bone dry made her think that perhaps he did. It made her think she might just want him to strip her suddenly soaked gown from her overheated body so that he could warm her in delicious ways.

  She leaned closer to him, her mouth softening, eager for a kiss.

  “Look at the state of you,” Mrs. Ledger, the cook, interrupted as she barged into the parlor to fetch a large pot from a hook near where Ophelia and Saif stood. “You’d better take yourselves upstairs and dry off before you catch your death.”

  “An excellent idea,” Saif said, taking hold of Ophelia’s hand. “I know just the thing.”

  The sudden lowering of his tone and the flash of fire in his eyes made Ophelia’s knees so weak that it was difficult to walk as he tugged her back through the kitchen and the servants’ hall to the stairs. He didn’t stop when they reached the ground floor. Instead, he led her on to the second floor, then out into a deserted hall.

  “It is a shame our bedchambers are in the west wing,” he said, mischief thick in his tone. “That end of the house is likely crawling with people searching out the sardines.”

  “It is a shame,” Ophelia said, disappointed.

  At least, she was disappointed until Saif said, “We shall simply have to make do with what we can find here.”

  He followed his statement by testing the handle of one of the doors nearest to them. It was unlocked, and when he pushed the door open, a startling bedroom decorated in
pink and rose with ostentatiously-carved furnishings waited on the other side.

  “Perfect,” he said, pulling her into the room and shutting the door behind them. Before she could get her bearings, Ophelia found her back against the door, Saif’s body looming large and close to her as he leaned into her, turning the key in the lock by her side. “At last, we are alone again,” he said before slanting his mouth over hers.

  His kiss was every bit as perfect as the one they’d shared in the wardrobe downstairs and more. It was commanding, yet tender. He mastered her completely, and yet she melted into him, wanting him to demand so much more from her. He seemed to sense her longing, as he stroked a hand up her side to cup one of her breasts.

  “It seems like such a shame to keep something so beautiful hidden from sight,” he said, drawing his hand farther up to the top of her sleeve and tugging it off her shoulder. “Such delicate skin should be kissed by the sun.”

  He followed his words by bringing his lips to the damp skin he had exposed. Ophelia gasped, then let out a long sigh as the warmth of his mouth transferred to her shoulder. Not that she needed anything to make her hotter than she was. He kissed his way from her shoulder, down the swooping neckline of her bodice, to the top of her breast. That in itself was divine, but when he grasped the edge of her bodice with his teeth and drew it low enough to expose her nipple, she nearly sagged to the floor with pleasure. And that was before he slipped his tongue over her nipple to free it further from the confines of her dress.

  She managed a breathless sound that magically conveyed how much she enjoyed his scandalous move. He hummed deep in his throat and straightened, cradling her face in both his hands.

  “You’re going to make me lose control, aren’t you?” he murmured.

  Her mouth dropped open, but she couldn’t manage a single word. Her? Unimportant little Ophelia Binghamton whom nobody wanted and who was always overlooked?

  He captured her lips with his once more, but it was his hands moving to the back of her bodice that drew her focus. With a few quick tugs, he loosened the ties that held her dress together, then pulled the sagging fabric forward and down her arms.

  She wasn’t sure whether it was his tongue teasing hers as he opened her mouth fully to taste her, or his hands gently drawing her damp gown away from her body, but something snapped inside Ophelia. Or perhaps it was pieces clicking into place. She wanted him. She wanted him in every way a woman could want a man. She wanted to be naked and at his mercy, subject to his every whim. Every naughty secret Felicity and Eliza had ever whispered to her rushed back into her memory with full force, urging her to be the naughty one for a change. She groaned low in her throat with the force of the need that overtook her and pushed away from the door, leaning into him.

  His energy shifted as well. Instead of slowly kissing and caressing her, it was as though she’d released a tiger from his cage. He tugged harder at her dress, peeling it away from her body with a small ripping sound. When that was gone, he went to work on her stays. They were off within seconds, and her chemise and the rest of her underthings weren’t far behind. Then his hands were all over her, stroking her sides, tracing her curves, and circling her breasts as though his life depended on learning every inch of her flesh.

  “You are a work of art,” he growled, his eyes flashing with lust as he looked at her.

  For once in her life, Ophelia felt as though she were desirable. She felt alive and pulsing and so ready to be taken by a man that it was close to driving her mad.

  “I want you,” she said, fumbling with the buttons of his jacket. “Be merciless.”

  The words surprised her. Saif glanced up from her body to meet her eyes with equal surprise. For the space of a heartbeat, they stood there, frozen and bristling with need, then he surged into her.

  He was everywhere, in front of her, wrapped around her, kissing her, and running his hands down her back to her backside, all while somehow maneuvering them toward the room’s garish bed. Ophelia struggled to catch her breath as the back of her legs hit the side of the bed and she lost her balance. She sat hard, tugging him with her. They both spilled back onto the coverlet, their mouths entwined, their arms reaching for each other.

  Saif continued kissing her and straining against her, all while trying to remove his jacket and waistcoat. The effort of doing both things at once was too much and he pulled away. That left Ophelia watching in wonder as he shoved his jacket aside, ditched his waistcoat, yanked his shirt up over his head after loosening his cravat, and finally worked free the buttons of his breeches. He even managed to remove his boots in short order, and when he stood from tossing them aside, he was gloriously naked.

  She caught her breath at the sight of him. His bronze skin was deliciously exotic without the trappings of British fashion enclosing it. His chest was broad and defined with curls of dark hair. His arms and legs were those of a man used to physical exertion or military training. But it was the hard, thick length of his cock, standing up in full readiness, that caught her attention. It was beautiful and terrifying, and she wanted it in ways she couldn’t begin to put words to.

  “I can’t resist you,” he said, his voice rough with desire, as he surged onto the bed with her, spreading her wide across the sheets. “I should tempt you and tease you and drive you wild with desire, pretending I won’t actually give you what we both want, but I can’t.” He covered her body completely with his, their skin touching in so many places that her thoughts scattered, leaving nothing but the full awareness of his cock pressed against her mound. “I can’t,” he repeated, “because I have looked forward to the moment when I sink myself deep within you for so long. I am going to fuck you.”

  A thrill of mad desire coursed through her at his vulgar words. “Yes,” she panted, squirming under him in a bid to speed the process along. “I want you to. I want you.”

  He exclaimed something in what must have been his native language, an oath and command. She found herself hoping it was just as dirty as what he’d said in English and that he was going to have her in every way possible. She ached for it. She whimpered in anticipation. She arched up into his touch as he smoothed a hand across the full length of her body, brushing her breast, sliding down her stomach, and delving between her legs.

  “Thank the gods you’re so wet,” he groaned, pressing his fingers into her for a moment before rubbing that sensual part of her she’d learned could bring her so much pleasure. “Because I cannot wait.”

  And then he was at her entrance, stretching her one moment, then thrusting deep into her the next. His movement brought with it a shock of pain, and then the most exquisite feeling of fullness Ophelia had ever felt. She let out a cry, grasping his back and digging her nails in as he moved desperately within her.

  It was everything her body had been made for. He rocked into her as mercilessly as she had commanded him to. The initial burst of pain was still there, but it was swallowed by a pleasure that had her gasping and mewling with each of his thrusts. He was using her body for his own pleasure, but it felt so uncommonly good that she lost herself to it. Let him use her. Let him swallow her whole and take whatever he wanted from her. It was magnificent. The coil of pleasure grew tighter and tighter within her until, at last, she burst into throbbing joy that went far beyond anything she’d ever managed on her own.

  Seconds later, he tensed and thrust hard into her, a cry of release ripping from his lungs. The force of it was perfect and left no doubt in her mind that he’d found what he was looking for. He continued to rock for a few seconds before his body began to soften and sag over her, hot and salty and everything she could have dreamed of and more.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, wondering if she could will him into becoming hard again and giving her another go. He let out a breath and shifted the way he lay on her so that it felt more like an embrace than the haphazard way he’d fallen when his energy was spent. That simple movement brought a broad smile to her face and a pang to her heart that felt
almost as delicious as the pleasure in her sex.

  He was hers. She had a part of him inside of her to prove it. And no matter what anyone said, she would never let him go.

  Chapter 5

  She’d been a virgin. It was the first thought that slipped through the cracks of Saif’s consciousness as he woke from their post-love-making nap. Ophelia hadn’t been the wily, experienced siren that he was certain her two friends were. She’d been free and open with him, yes, but he should have known from the delicate way she accepted his kiss and the inexperience in the way she moved that she’d never known a man before. He should have read the signs before he plunged mercilessly into her—mercilessly, as she’d demanded—and felt that moment of resistance before pleasure overtook his good sense.

  He held her, cradled against him, now, her backside nestled enticingly against his reawakening arousal. Her body fit perfectly against his. Cad though it made him, he couldn’t resist smoothing his hands along the curve of her side, the rise of her hip, the flesh of her thigh. She was perfection in every way, and in spite of the guilt that gnawed at him, he didn’t think he would ever get enough of simply feeling the warm deliciousness of her form.

  Which presented a problem that both unnerved and inspired him.

  “I was the first, wasn’t I?” he asked, phrasing it as more of a statement.

  She shifted enough to glance over her shoulder to him. A broad smile danced across her glorious, full lips, and she nodded.

  Saif’s guilt began to coalesce into a protective hunger. He shouldn’t have assumed she was experienced because of the company she kept and because she was a guest at the wild house party. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Ophelia blinked, her smile slipping. “I didn’t think to tell you. I was too overwhelmed by the moment.”