“Chloe?” Annabelle called from the top of the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
Her hand flitted by her face. “I have to talk to Fin. We made an arrangement, but I’m not sure I can go through with it.”
“Arrangement?” Annabelle asked.
“Yes. After I provide him with an heir, I wouldn’t just come visit with you but I could live with you. Have my own life.” Chloe’s fist clenched. “I thought I wanted freedom to live on my own while committed to a marriage of convenience, but…”
Annabelle padded down the stairs and then pulled Chloe in for a gentle hug. “But now you want all of him.”
Chloe nodded against her friend’s shoulder. “Yes. Exactly.” She swallowed, her throat raw with unspoken emotion “And I have to tell him before it’s too late. If it means he rejects me and I am ruined, then so be it.”
Annabelle squeezed her again. “He won’t. He loves you too.”
How did Annabelle know? “If he loved me he wouldn’t be trying to send me away.”
Annabelle leaned back. “He’s trying to send you away because he loves you. Chloe, he is worried that he can’t give you enough. He wants you to be happy and he thinks you’ll be better off with us.”
“What makes you think that?” Chloe’s heart did a slow, heavy pounding as hope and fear mingled in her chest.
“I’ve been listening and watching.” Annabelle leaned back in, placing her forehead against Chloe’s. “Now go tell him how you feel.”
Chloe spun the white sapphire that glittered on her finger. Sounded simple enough. She could only hope that were true.
Fin lay in bed, dozing in and out of sleep. He should rise but he’d gotten to bed ridiculously late. A muffled sound in the hall caught his attention.
“Please. It’s important.” Was that Chloe?
“Miss. I know you’re expected but you can’t just wake him. You’ll have to wait in the sitting room,” his butler replied.
“I can’t wait hours for him. I’ll go mad.”
Fin hopped from the bed and crossed the room. He was shirtless, only wearing loose fitting pants, not that he cared. Wrenching open the door, he looked out to find Chloe squaring off with his butler. Her hands were on her hips, her chin high.
“It’s all right, Barton. Let her pass.” He couldn’t quite keep the smile from his face.
She flushed a deep shade of red as she walked by him, entering the room. “I suppose this only further proves how ill-equipped I am to be a countess. Poor manners and such.”
“On the contrary, countesses usually get what they want and they certainly tell butlers to stuff it often.” He closed the door and turned to her.
“I need to speak with…” She stopped. “You should put on a shirt.” Her eyes travelled his length several times.
“I think I’ll stay as I am,” he answered, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood straighter. Her gaze heated his skin and she nibbled her lip as she stared. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
She sat on his bed. “I don’t like the arrangement we’ve made.”
That knocked the wind out of him. “You don’t want to get married?”
She fiddled with the ring. “I didn’t say that.” Her spine straightened. “I don’t want you to send me away.”
His mouth dropped open. “I beg your pardon?”
“After I conceive. I don’t want you to send me away. I want to stay with you.” She looked up at him through the dark fringe of her lashes. “A husband and wife should be together.”
The dam that had been holding back his feelings broke open inside. “I don’t want to be apart either.” In two steps he was across the room. He brought his hands to either side of her even as he gave her a fierce kiss.
“But last night you said some distance would be better.” She leaned back to look at him.
“I was a fool.” And then he kissed her again until they both tumbled onto the bed. “I thought I could protect you from my past demons.”
She kissed him this time, opening her mouth so that their tongues could meet. “I’ve lost my family, been beaten by my aunt, survived society’s scorn. I am strong enough to take whatever burden you need me to, just as you have taken on mine.”
Fin held her face in his hands. She was strong and so brave. Loving and kind. Whatever the future brought, they could face it together. “I love you,” he whispered, the three words not nearly enough but all he was capable of saying.
“I love you, too,” she answered and then their lips came together again.
The kiss deepened and lengthened. He wanted to show her how much he cared for her, needed her. She met his every touch with one of her own until they were both panting for breath.
He slid his fingertips down her cheeks, along her jaw and over her neck. Trailing along the neckline of her gown, he began unclasping the buttons of her dress. He couldn’t think about what was right, or how he should wait. He just wanted to be close to her. As her gown slumped forward, he kissed along the exposed skin. Lighter touches meant to show her how much he cared. “Chloe,” he groaned. “Promise me that you’ll stay with me forever. I can’t lose you now. You are my second chance, my new life.”
She curled her fingers into his hair. “Your second chance?” She gasped as his lips brushed the top of her breast. “I literally found my voice again the day you arrived in my life.”
He smiled against her skin. He was her second chance as well. He untied her corset strings, revealing more skin and nearly groaned as her lush pink nipples spilled into view. They were the same lovely honey pink as her lips.
He gave one a small kiss and she cried out, arching against him. But he’d take his time. This was not just lovemaking, he was worshipping her. He needed her to understand the care he was willing to take with her heart, her love. Slowly, he kissed the nipple and then licked at the puckered tip, finally drawing the sensitive flesh into his mouth. She writhed underneath him, pulling at his hair. He moved to the other breast.
Giving a brief cry of protest, she nearly pulled his face back to her body and smiled again, satisfaction making his movements even slower.
He’d take all day to unwrap the gorgeous package of a woman who was about to be his wife.
“Fin,” she moaned as she splayed her fingers down his back. “I want to touch all of you.”
Well, how could he refuse the lady that? “Of course, my love.” He sat up, drinking in the sight of her flushed with passion.
She stared at him for a moment, her eyes wandering down his torso and then she began scrambling out of her gown while still laying on the bed. He chuckled, she looked deliciously sweet as she tried to wriggle from the fabric. “You’ll ruin your dress.” With that, he reached down and pulled her to standing.
Helping her out of the sleeves, he worked the dress down her body, and she stepped out. Laying it across his arm, he draped it over a chair.
When he turned back, she was smiling at him, her gaze full of warmth. Then she opened her arms to him. “Come here,” she said.
“Always,” he said, returning to step into her embrace.
Chapter Sixteen
Chloe ran her hands over his bare, muscular back as he pulled her close to his body. Her breath caught as her bare arms touched his skin. Warm, hard flesh pressed into her softer curves making her ache with desire. He finished untying her corset and it dropped to the floor. Skimming his fingers along her collarbone, he traced her shoulders then down her spine. Sitting her down again, he began to untie her boots, slipping them off her feet.
Her heart fluttered in her chest as she leaned over to touch his cheek. How could a man who looked so fierce be so incredibly tender? He gave her stockinged calf a light kiss and then he began to roll them down her leg and off her foot.
She’d wondered what this moment would be like for a long time. Never had she imagined that undressing could be so tender and so…erotic. By the time the first stocking cleared her toe, her breath was coming in short gasps.
Her tongue came out to lick her lips and he let out a deep rumble from down low in his throat. Her core pulsed as she slid backward, her back pressing into the bed.
He slid his hand along her legs again, his fingers trembling. “Are you nervous too?” she asked, barely able to say the words, her voice breathy.
He gave a shaky laugh. “I suppose I am. It’s been a long time and being with a woman has never meant this much.”
She reached down and touched his hand. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve never felt more cherished than I do with you.” She swallowed, propping up on her other elbow. “Even in my dreams, I never imagined feeling as close to someone as I do to you right now.”
He sprang forward, stopping with his lips just an inch above hers. Taking her face in his hands once again, he gave her a long slow kiss. “Chloe. You are my heart and soul and you’ll be my conscience. I’m sure of it.”
She smiled at him, her heart bursting with love. “And you are my voice and my strength. You’ll help me to find my own.”
Fin kissed her again, a quick hard kiss before he began sliding back down her body, his lips blazing a trail over her chemise. He grasped the hem and began to pull it up her legs until the fabric pooled at her waist. Then he placed a light kiss on her lower belly, his lips touching bare skin.
It tickled and tingled and made her yearn for more…more of what she wasn’t certain, but her bits throbbed in need.
What she didn’t understand, he did. Just like the carriage, he trailed his fingers along her seam, desire radiating through her body. And then he slid his lips along the same path, his tongue a rough friction that made her body convulse in pleasure.
He slid his finger deep inside her, even as his tongue repeated the motion, this time, the ache it caused even deeper.
“Fin,” she cried as he set a rhythmic pace, the tension building inside until she thought she might burst from it.
He didn’t heed her cry, however, and instead increased the tempo and the pressure until she came undone, crying out his name.
As she slowly floated back down from bliss, he began kissing her belly, her chest, pushing her chemise up and over her head.
When his bare skin pressed against her chest, she sighed with pleasure, wrapping her arms about his neck.
“Chloe,” he groaned, “I know we should wait until tomorrow but…”
“I’m ready,” she said, kissing his lips. “I’ve never been more ready.”
He reached between them, undoing his fall-front trousers, he wrestled the pants down to his knees, his body rubbing hers in all sorts of interesting ways. She bit her lip trying not to giggle and then the hard ridge of manhood pressed against her soft flesh and the giggle died on her lips.
Slowly, he began moving inside her as he kissed her over and over, his hard shaft stretching her and a slight burning making her throat tight. When he hit her maidenhead, he pushed through with a jerk of his hips.
She cried out and he stilled, cradling her head as he feathered kisses along the bridge of her nose. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
She wasn’t sorry. Not even a little. Chloe tilted her chin so his next kiss landed on her lips. “We’re together now. As close as two people can be, and I’ve never wanted to be in a place more.”
He shuddered against her and slowly slid back out and then inside her again. “Promise me that I won’t frighten you away. That you’ll be mine forever.”
“I promise,” she said as she held him tighter.
His movements picked up speed and she found they no longer hurt, were only vaguely uncomfortable and then almost pleasant. He kissed her again and she held him as he came undone in her arms.
Still inside her, he groaned out his finish then collapsed on top of her. She kissed his face several times, running her fingers through his hair, his weight like the warmest blanket she’d ever felt.
“I love you, Fin,” she whispered, her voice as heavy as her arms and they slipped from his hair, sliding onto the crisp sheets.
“Sleep, my love.” He nuzzled her neck just behind her ear. “For as long as you wish.”
She didn’t want to fall asleep. Why miss this perfect moment? But her lids defied her and fluttered closed.
When she woke, the room was dim as though it were late in the afternoon and she sat up, alone in bed.
Her brows drew together. Where was Fin?
After climbing from the bed, she quickly washed and then pulled her chemise and corset on, cinching the strings. A knock sounded at the door.
“Yes?” she called, pulling on her drawers and stockings.
“Miss, his lordship sent me to attend you. I’m Mary.”
“Come in,” she called rolling her stockings up her legs. The girl entered and then closed the door behind her. “Mary, do you know where his lordship is?”
Mary gave a courtesy as she spoke. “Of course. He’s down in the ballroom decorating along with the ladies.”
The ladies? Then she remembered. Her friends were all coming, had already come, to help decorate for the wedding tomorrow. Oh dear. “What time is it?” Her heart pounded in her chest. Annabelle no longer hated Dryden. That much had become clear, but her friends had been skeptical at best. She didn’t know how long they’d been working together but she half expected to walk downstairs to a screaming match. She needed to hurry.
“Four o’clock, miss.” Mary said. “If you’ll just sit, I can fix your hair.”
“Mary, something simple, please. I’m already terribly late.” Chloe rushed to the chair feeling as though she’d let everyone down.
Mary smiled. “Of course. Though you shouldn’t worry. They seem to be doing just fine.”
Chloe frowned in the looking glass, wondering if that were true. Mary kept her word and in a quarter hour, she was making her way down the grand stair toward the ballroom. As she approached, however, she didn’t hear yelling or even tense voices.
Instead she heard…laughter. A lot of it in fact. A wave of warmth washed over her. Chloe rounded the corner and stopped dead in her tracks. What met her gaze was a Christmastide miracle. Garlands of holly and pine were strung everywhere along with winter berries and pine cones. A large tree was set in one corner merrily adorned with treats and sparkling glass. Fin stood hanging delicate balls as Annabelle handed them to him one at a time. Caroline stood on a small ladder hanging mistletoe from a doorway.
“Surprise,” Penny called out. “Isn’t it so wonderful?” She rushed to Chloe’s side. “It’s the most romantic scene I’ve ever seen.” Then her brow crinkled. “Lord Dryden said you weren’t feeling well and needed a rest. Are you all right?”
“I’m perfect,” she gushed. “It’s wonderful.” Her throat worked and she lifted her hand to her collarbone. It was beautiful beyond her wildest dreams. “How did you do all this?”
“We’ve had help,” Fin crossed the room, giving her a soft smile. “Much of the staff has pitched in as well. Except for the scullery maids and cook, who are busy prepping the wedding breakfast.”
She stepped next to the man she would marry and slipped her hand into his. “We’re actually doing this. Tomorrow we’ll be wed.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “With your family,” he looked at each of her friends. “And mine.”
It was perfect.
Untitled
Too Wicked to Woo
* * *
Tammy Andresen
Too Wicked to Woo
Chronicles of a Bluestocking
Lady Penelope Clearwater sat holding her teacup somewhere between her saucer and her li
ps. “I beg your pardon?” she said to one of her dearest friends in all the world, Lady Chloe Dryden, formerly Miss Chloe Finch.
“You heard me.” Chloe gave her an innocent smile, but her eyes twinkled with mischief. A sure sign Penny’s friend was up to no good. “An experiment.”
“On men?” Penny raised her eyebrows and then her cup. She took a deliberate sip of her tea, attempting to compose herself before she said another word. The idea was ludicrous. She looked to her other two friends, seated on either side of her on the settee. Surely one of them would insert the reason this conversation was desperately lacking. To one side, sat Annabelle, tall and fair, staring blankly at Chloe, not giving a hint to her true feelings. While Caroline, with her raven hair and rosy coloring, flushed at the mere mention of such an endeavor.
Clearly, Chloe’s joy over having married had completely addled her brain. Normally, she was the most intelligent person that Penny knew. An occasional lapse could be expected, but still. This went too far.
“That is interesting,” Annabelle’s mouth pinched as though she considered Chloe’s words anything but. “And a great gift to society. But the three of us are unlikely to crack such a code as that. No matter how much we enjoy a puzzle.”
Chloe scooted forward in her wingback chair and drew in an excited breath. Penny had seen that look before. Breathless excitement filled her friend’s face. “I’ve already collected some information.” She gave a wink. “And the three of you can only do so much. But together we might just get a good base of information.”
Penny looked to Annabelle for help. This book was a terrible idea. None of them were equipped to catch the attention of a rake, and if they did by some miracle accomplish such a feat, how would they extricate themselves after they’d collected their information? Researching rogues required a great deal of familiarity with the subjects. Annabelle saw the look of desperation Penny gave her and cleared her throat. “Chlo, even if we ran the most regimented of tests, men are too unpredictable to yield any recordable results. We could each have the exact same interaction with three different men and the results could vary wildly based on their individual personalities, their level of attraction, and their desire for change.”
Earl of Dryden: Chronicles of a Bluestocking/Wicked Earls’ Club Page 8
