Tempting a Gentleman

by Smith, Rachel Ann

  Emma arched her back. “Chris… Christopher!”

  The tip of his tongue circled the aching bud, mimicking his earlier motions with his fingers. She reached down to grasp his shoulder, but her hand landed on the back of his head, and she tugged on his hair.

  He lifted his head and said, “We should stop.” Christopher shifted and rolled to her side. “We should wait until after we have said our vows.”

  Eyes fluttering open, she glared at her husband-to-be. “Do ye love me?”

  “Aye, with all my heart.”

  “And I love ye.” She tugged him over her again. Bringing his head down to hers, she whispered, “I want ye.”

  His gaze roamed over her face. She met his stare. Whatever he’d been searching for, he must have found it, for he positioned himself between her legs and ready to enter her. “I love you, Emma.”

  Before she could reply, she bit down on her bottom lip, stifling a cry of surprise as he filled her completely. Their bodies, joined intimately, created a bond within Emma that was stronger than anything she’d ever experienced. When he moved slowly in and out of her, she dug her fingers into his bottom. In the few instances she’d spied couples mating, the man had been far more vigorous. Her inner muscles began to clench. Christopher deepened his thrusts but maintained a rhythmic pace. Emma’s heart pounded hard against her chest. She lifted her hips to meet his over and over. Her muscles spasmed, and the twinkling lights returned beneath her eyelids. Christopher grunted as he entered her one last time before a warmth radiated through her core, sending her into depths of bliss she’d never known.

  Muscles quivering, Christopher fell on top of her, bracing his weight upon his forearms. “I was wrong. You have induced my body to seek out slumber.”

  He rolled aside, facing her. Draping a leg over his, Emma settled herself next to him and closed her eyes, ignoring the pang of hunger. She was too exhausted to eat. The food would have to wait until later.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Emma wrapped her frayed coverlet tighter about her, tucking a corner in the valley between her breasts. She peered over at Christopher’s sleeping form, covered with one of the cotton sheets from her bed. He slept on his side, hand tucked beneath the bright-yellow silk pillow under his head. His dark mane was disheveled—no doubt from her fingers threading and pulling on his hair. A buoyant joy placed a bounce in her step as she crept on the balls of her feet to retrieve the parchment that lay next to the abandoned picnic basket. Carefully picking up the folded paper, she tiptoed to the window. Shifting the curtains aside to let in what little moonlight was left, Emma unfolded the list of Network members that were to journey with them. Squinting at the neat, bold letters, Emma sounded out the names but could not make out the other words on the paper. Bah. If she was to become a bloomin’ PORF, she’d have to learn to read.

  She jumped as Christopher placed a kiss upon her bare shoulder. “Ye did a fine job.”

  “My thanks. I had hoped you would approve of those on the list.”

  Emma turned to wrap her arms around his waist. He was garbed in only his breeches. Resting her cheek against him, she said, “While we journey to the New World, will ye teach me how to read?”

  “If you wish me to, yes. But now that you are accompanying me, there is no need.”

  Emma placed a quick kiss on his chest. “Ye’re sweet to say that, but I’ll be needin’ to know how to read and write if I’m to succeed as a PORF.”

  His relaxed features transformed into a scowl. “I don’t want you to change. I love you just as you are.”

  “We will both need to change after we wed and receive the mark of a PORF.” Happy to see Christopher smile at her response, Emma continued, “And the good thing is we get to do it together.”

  He bent to kiss her, and she rose up to meet him halfway. Instead of a long, drugging kiss Emma hoped to receive, Christopher broke away and slipped his arm beneath her knees. He carried her over to her bed and gently laid her down. Christopher surprised her again by not joining her. Instead, he left her and went into the loft. Emma beamed a smile at the rattle of plates. He was going to bring her food. She sighed—how lucky she was to marry a thoughtful man.

  Arms loaded with plates piled with food, Christopher asked, “Would you mind reviewing the list in detail with me later this eve?”

  “We can’t this eve. We are to attend Bronwyn’s ball.”

  With a stubborn jut of his chin, Christopher suggested, “After the ball then.”

  The temptation to spend another night with Christopher was too great. She nodded and said, “I sorted out the names, but I couldn’t read yer reasoning.”

  Emma took the offered plate of cheese and bread. Christopher pinched the roll of bread she’d been eyeing. He took a bite and then offered it to her. She wasn’t sure if she was angry or happy at his actions. “Are ye going to take half the cheese as well?”

  He shook his head and winked at her as he left once more. Emma’s attention remained fixed on his backside as he strode away. He had a fine bottom with cheeks that filled her hands. She flopped back onto the bed and closed her eyes. Memories of him filling her had her hips wiggling. Her eyes popped back open as his warm breath brushed against the tops of her breasts. Christopher loomed over her holding out a wedge of cheese. Disappointed to see he had donned his lawn shirt, she frowned at his offering.

  Arching a brow, Christopher asked, “Is the cheese not to your liking? Or were you wanting something else?”

  She grabbed the cheese and lowered her gaze, and his manhood twitched in his breeches. She wasn’t the only one remembering the events of the previous night. Licking her lips, she took a bite. Christopher’s chuckle turned into a groan.

  “You are pure temptation.” Christopher dodged behind the screen that formed her makeshift dressing room. “Is this fine mint-green colored gown the glorious creation you will be wearing to Bronwyn’s ball?”

  He must be referring to the exquisite dress she had created for Arabelle.

  “Nay. I shall be daring in a red gown with—”

  Emma's words caught in her throat. Christopher reappeared, shirt tucked into his breeches, highlighting his trim waist. His hair finger-combed back into place, and a smile that could warm an entire room.

  Standing before her with his hands behind his back, Christopher said, “It would be an honor if you allowed me to escort you to the ball.”

  She shook her head. “Bronwyn has requested I arrive early, along with Theo and your mama.” The coverlet slipped down, exposing the tops of her nipples.

  “Four Hadfield women gathered together,” Christopher croaked out before his eyes fell to her chest as she grappled with the material to cover up her breasts. He grabbed his lawn shirt and pulled it over his head.

  Emma scooted back to make room for him on the bed. “I’m not a Hadfield yet.”

  “Yet. But after last night…” He pulled her into his arms. “You’re mine forever.”

  She had wished and dreamed of a devoted husband like her dad. Christopher was as caring and protective of his family as the man who had raised her.

  Her dad. Blast! He had mentioned he’d check in on her in the morn.

  The Neale household staff would have already noticed he’d not returned last night. Arghh… she was going to get an earful.

  Pushing at Christopher’s shoulders, Emma said, “Ye’ve got to leave. Me dad will be here soon.”

  “I’ll stay with you until he arrives.”

  “No, ye will not. Now off with ye.” Contrary to her words, Emma tilted her head as he lightly grazed the base of her neck with his teeth.

  Christopher kissed his way up to her ear. “He won’t be pleased to know I’ve remained the night.”

  “I’ll… I’ll handle him.” She moaned as he took her earlobe between his lips.

  Releasing her, he whispered, “What if I want to?”

  “Owya. To be wed to a barrister.” She shoved him back until they were eye to eye. “Are ye alw
ays goin’ to argue with me?”

  Christopher gave her a brief kiss and said, “Not always.”

  He slid from the bed and returned with a pink day dress. Hauled to her feet, she had no choice but to drop the coverlet to dress. Christopher's hands immediately went to her hips, bringing her an inch closer. His warm breath brushed over her breasts, pebbling her nipples. She wanted him to trail kisses over her chest like he had before. Her husband-to-be bent his head, took her nipple into his mouth, and suckled.

  “Are ye trying to get killed?” She moaned her delight but kept her hands clenched at her sides. She looked at the faint stream of sunlight peeking through the curtains. “Me dad will be on his way.”

  With one last swirl of his tongue, Christopher straightened and placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead. “Promise you’ll wait up for me after the ball.”

  Grabbing the dress from his hands, Emma nodded. “Ye better not make me wait long.” Forgoing her stays, she leaned forward, brushing the tips of her nipples across his bare skin as she turned around and pulled the dress over her head. With her back to him, she slightly bent at the hips to shake out her skirts. Her bum brushed up against his erect manhood. Christopher sucked in a breath. But instead of reaching around to fondle her breasts like Emma wished he’d do, Christopher did the gentlemanly thing and helped her with the buttons at the back of her dress. It was nice to have help and not pull a muscle twisting and turning about. “Are ye nearly done?”

  “Damnation, woman, stay still.” Christopher’s nimble fingers had excelled at releasing buttons, but he wasn’t as adept at playing the maid. He released a sigh and said, “Done.” Christopher hadn’t even finished saying the word when the pounding at the front door started. Stepping around Emma, Christopher headed for the stairs. Trailing right behind him, Emma avoided tripping over skirts as she tried to match his long strides.

  Blast. He reached the front door first. Swinging the door open, Christopher let her dad into the shop. “Good morning, Mr. Lennox.”

  “Humph. Was her mum not clear? No more nighttime visits.”

  “I apologize. Mrs. Lennox was clear in her wishes.”

  Her dad entered and shoved Christopher out. “I need a word with Emma…in private.” He shut the door and fastened the locks. “Ye two figure matters out?”

  She wasn’t exactly sure what her dad was referring to, but she and Christopher were in accord. Emma said, “Aye.”

  “Good. Did he share with ye the names of those he’s chosen to go abroad?

  Emma squinted at her dad to hide her shock. Her dad wasn’t going to lecture her on having a gentleman stay overnight under her roof, and she wasn’t going to prompt him. “Aye. I know who’s to go.”

  “Well…”

  “That’s not for me to share. He’s asked for me opinion, but we haven’t had time to go over them all.”

  Her dad’s beefy hands clenched, and his knuckles popped. “No time, huh.”

  There was a light rap at the front door. Her dad peered out the window and mumbled, “It’s yer stubborn niece.” He released the locks.

  The door flew open, and Lady Arabelle waltzed past Mr. Lennox, who crept out the front door and left without a goodbye.

  “Where did your father disappear to?” Lady Arabelle asked as she removed her gloves.

  “He’s off to work.” Emma went up the stairs to retrieve Arabelle’s gown. “Yer dress is ready. I’ll jus’ go box it up for ye.”

  Arabelle followed her up to the loft.

  Reaching over Emma’s shoulder, Arabelle pulled out the red gown. “You devil. Don’t tell me you plan on wearing this ruby creation.” She pressed the garment against her chest and twirled about. It absolutely divine.” The mischievous twinkle in her eye shone brightly. Emma braced herself for Arabelle’s request. “Let’s switch gowns. You wear the green, and I get to wear the red.”

  Recalling how Christopher’s voice had deepened earlier while in her closet, Emma considered the outrageous request. She wanted to incite that devilish gleam in his eyes when he was just about to kiss her.

  Emma nodded. “Very well.” Taking the red gown from Arabelle’s grasp, she boxed it up and trudged down the stairs.

  Emma waited by the door for Arabelle to descend.

  Taking the box from Emma, Arabelle asked, “Do you always dine on the floor?” Arabelle shifted her gaze back to the stairs.

  Ignoring the question, Emma said, “Have yer maid press the gown.” She gently shoved Arabelle out the door. “I shall see ye at the ball.”

  Leaning back against the door, she slid the bolts into place. She needed to make a few quick alterations to the green dress. Alterations that would tempt her dear betrothed.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Having never given his height much consideration prior, Christopher was newly thankful he had been blessed with a few extra inches as he scanned the crowd filling Landon’s townhouse. Where was Emma? He scrutinized every darn woman dressed in red. He studied the throng of ladies that consisted of the usual set of debutantes and a few country misses, but there was no sign of his fiancée anywhere.

  Landon murmured, “Did the council grant your request?”

  He inwardly winced, recalling his earlier meeting with the Network elders. His anxiety level had risen prior to presenting his request to the council, but not as high as it was now. He’d sought approval of his plan to have one of them accompany him as he extended invitations to each Network member on his list personally. Christopher wanted each member to know that it was an offer, not a demand, and that they may choose to decline if they wished. That he remained unmarked worked to his advantage. He wanted the members to go willingly.

  Christopher glanced at his brother. Landon had adopted a relaxed stance, but his eyes were filled with worry. “I did. Cadby and I are to begin visiting the families tomorrow.” Landon’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his father-in-law, but Christopher ignored his older brother’s glare and nodded as more guests were announced. All the ceremonious aplomb grated on Christopher’s nerves. He took a step back and waited while Landon smiled and formally greeted the guests. Onlookers would have thought the Earl of Hadfield was thoroughly enjoying the nonsensical idle chatter, but Christopher noticed the back of Landon’s coat stretched taut. His brother's muscles grew tenser the longer the couple nattered on. Christopher scanned the room once more. With each passing second of not locating Emma, his pulse accelerated.

  Having completed his salutations, Landon turned and asked, “How long do you anticipate it will take for you to obtain everyone’s consent?”

  “Cadby anticipates a week; I’d say a few days.”

  “Hmph. The man is not one to exaggerate.” There was no love lost between Landon and his father-in-law, but his brother did respect the man.

  “Aye, but I’m not one to dally.” A honey blonde in a green dress, similar to the one he saw at Emma's shop, appeared briefly and exited onto the terrace. His heart leaped, but Emma had said she would be in red. His gaze flickered to Landon. “Have you seen my fiancée?”

  “She’s most likely with my wife. I was tied up at the Foreign Office this afternoon, and I haven’t had a chance to locate Bronwyn.” Landon’s relaxed features remained in place, but his voice was definitely strained. “I had expected my wife to be here, next to me, greeting the piranhas…beg pardon, the guests.”

  Christopher smothered a laugh. “I’ll leave you to your host duties. I’m off to find the women.”

  Leaving his brother’s side, Christopher kept to the fringes of the crush. He milled about, relying on his ability to sense when she was near. The mass of bodies shifted like a school of fish. If the number of attendees determined the success of a ball, then Bronwyn’s first official event as a host was a smashing victory.

  Christopher spied his cousin Theo in the corner with her usual guards, Waterford and his wife, Lady Mary, and made his way towards the trio.

  He greeted Theo with a quick peck on the cheek. “Have you seen
Emma?” Christopher took a half step back.

  His cousin, who was more like a sister, stared at him through narrowed eyes and replied, “Not recently.” Theo’s pleasant smile masked her displeasure.

  It was never a good thing to be in Theo’s bad graces. Christopher asked, “Why are you angry at me?”

  The woman’s lips thinned into a straight line briefly. When he raised an eyebrow, Theo answered, “Your fiancée is the best modiste in town, and you are stealing her away.”

  Ah. Given the request for them to venture off was from the Network and not a PORF dictate, it had obviously upset his cousin. The interference of either group affected many. Mayhap both parties would soon learn that meddling, no matter how well intended, had significant consequences.

  Lowering his voice, Christopher said, “As you are aware, one decision can have an impact that trickles down to a countless number of souls.” With his private message delivered, Christopher smiled at the small group and settled his attention upon Theo. “Sarah and Maude will ensure your gowns will be as magnificent as the one you are wearing this eve.”

  Theo replied, “Hmph. Not surprised it would take two to replace Emma.”

  His cousin was right. The loss of Emma to both the Network and PORFs would be great. Selfish as it may be, he wasn’t going to be separated from Emma—ever.

  Christopher spun and followed Waterford’s intense gaze. Bronwyn and his mama stood on either side of Landon. Uncertain when or if he’d see them again, he placed a hand over his chest to ease the sharp, hot stab to his heart. He was leaving them, his family, to start anew with Emma. Melancholy transformed into panic. Where in the blazes was Emma?