Seduce Me Please

by Nichole Matthews

  Piper paused, biting her bottom lip, her elbows resting on the table. She knew that Poppy only wanted the best for her. “He’s not the devil he is made out to be. He’s different. He listens to me. He makes me laugh.”

  Poppy leaned forward and grabbed Piper’s hand. “I know you. If your feelings are this engaged, then I wish you all the luck in the world.”

  Piper grinned, remembering Rockwell’s words. “It’s not luck. It’s fate.”

  ……………………………………….

  Crouching in the bushes, he watched as Piper entered the Duke of Hawksley’s London mansion on Berkley Square. The reconnaissance mission assigned to him was turning out to be more entertaining than he had expected. Who knew that exacting revenge could be so diverting? No matter his reasons, he knew the penalty if he failed in his part of the plot. He had no intention of experiencing his wrath first hand.

  Oh, Rockwell. It didn’t have to go this far.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I remember when I believed a little boredom would be a pleasant diversion.

  Piper’s journal

  30 July

  DECLAN STEPPED INTO GRAYDON’S STUDY, glancing around it became quite obvious that he was the last to arrive. It was a little disconcerting to walk into a clandestine meeting and have the chattering stop. Three pair of eyes turned to him when he stepped through the door.

  “Alright, I’ll bite.” One brow rose. “What did I do this time?”

  Graydon came quickly to his feet behind the desk and grinned. “Hawk.” He held out his hand. “Congratulations on your marriage.”

  “Thank you, Rock. You should try it yourself.” He shrugged. “Better than I could have ever expected.” Declan sauntered over to the desk. “Rock, we missed you this summer.” He gripped the proffered hand before sprawling casually in the additional chair placed in front of the large mahogany desk.

  Graydon erupted with a hearty laugh. “I never thought I would see the day you would preach of the benefits of a wife.”

  “Spare us some of the details, Hawk.” Parker waived him silent. “You are after all speaking of our sister.”

  Peyton made a sour face. “Yes, I don’t know if I could handle any details.”

  “Yet you participate in orgies in the country,” Declan interjected with a laugh.

  “Enough with the orgies.” Peyton groaned.

  “Luckily I’ve asked you all here for a completely different reason,” Graydon said before handing Parker the first note and Declan the second. His gaze was sharp as he studied their faces and waited for their reactions.

  Parker read through the note two times before lifting his head, meeting Graydon’s concerned stare. “What family secret is the note referring to?”

  “That’s just it; I haven’t a clue. I don’t know anything that the ton doesn’t already know.” Graydon frowned a bit. “Believe me, my father made sure that his indiscretions were known to all.”

  Parker looked straight at Graydon. “Have you seen anyone strange lurking about?”

  “That’s just it.” Graydon rubbed his eyes wearily. “Nothing. Nothing strange or different or intriguing has taken place. I can’t think of any reasons someone would want to threaten me.” He had spent the summer alone with his mother and two sisters. He hadn’t hosted a house party or had visitors traipsing through at odd intervals. He had taken long rides and read an outrageous number of books and did a lot of thinking. Pondering his future and what road he wanted to take. All in all it had been a very quiet time. He drummed his fingers noisily on his desk.

  Declan straightened, one brow arching in question, switching notes with Parker. “What can’t you stop?”

  “I haven’t a clue.” Graydon rubbed the bridge of his nose before leaning back in his chair. “Then again, perhaps this is just someone’s idea of a joke?”

  “Cruel joke, if you ask me.” Peyton stroked his chin thoughtfully while scrutinizing the notes. “I wonder who ‘W’ could be?”

  Graydon looked down at a list on his desk. “I’ve written down possible suspects.” He pointed to the first name and began to read off the names. “Wynter, Wilde, Wrothingham, Wakefield,

  “Do you mind?” Declan asked, gesturing towards the liquor cabinet. “I believe this sort of intrigue requires sufficient alcohol.”

  “Of course, sorry Hawk. I should have offered already.” Graydon grimaced. He hated feeling out of control. “This whole situation has me pissed off. At first I thought it might have something to do with Roberta Staverton, but now I’m not certain. Perhaps ‘W’ is the father of her child.”

  Declan looked towards the other gentlemen after pouring a glass of brandy. “Refill?”

  “Just bring the whole damn bottle, Hawk.” Parker replied. “I have a feeling we are going to need it.”

  “Why now?” Declan asked. “Why would he surface after such a long time?”

  “Who is the father of her child?” Peyton queried. “Did you never find out?”

  “That’s just it, Staverton must have spent a lot of money keeping everything hush—hush, because I haven’t heard so much as a whisper of a name and I really didn’t try that hard to uncover that information.”

  Parker leaned forward. “I’ll do some sniffing around and see what I can find out.”

  Pensively, Graydon rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want this to turn into an ugly situation.”

  “Have you noticed anyone watching you?” Declan asked.

  “This all just started. I hadn’t been paying attention before.”

  Peyton handed over the notes. “Well, I for one am going to take this seriously. I believe our family has a vested interest in yours, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Graydon pursed his lips, considering his statement. Whether he answered or not, either would be a sign of his interest.

  “Interesting,” Declan said, rubbing his hands together.

  Parker’s eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “You want to make sure my sister is safe and happy. No mésalliance, I believe you said to me.”

  Graydon weighed his answer carefully. “Uh…yes.” Frustration surged through him. He had set the perfect course for his life and with a twist of fate; the briefest of moments changed everything.

  Parker’s brows drew together, studying him as if trying to judge his sincerity. “Should I be concerned?”

  Graydon turned away from Parker’s unsettling gaze. Why did Parker have to pick this time in his life to choose to act as a true guardian? Why did she have to be related to one of his best friends? Was Declan right? Could a true relationship be better than he could imagine?

  Oblivious to Parker’s concerns, Peyton continued to speculate on Graydon’s predicament. Calling out different reasons someone would want to harm him. “Perhaps it’s merely a jealous husband?”

  “Although my reputation precedes me, I have yet to take part in a dalliance with a married lady.” Graydon sighed. “So there would be no call for W to be a jealous husband.” He wished the answer would be that simple.

  “What about Whitman?” Peyton interjected. “You asked me about him at Tattersall’s, remember.”

  “I had never met Whitman before this season, what grudge could he hold towards me?” Graydon was truly perplexed, he rubbed his temples. He couldn’t think of a single reason Whitman would be seeking vengeance on him. “He’s a complete stranger.” His gaze fell to the list of suspects lying on the blotter on his desk. There wasn’t a single name that made any sense. “I suppose we will need to confront them all.”

  “I suppose we will need to find out.” Parker retorted, pushing himself up from his chair. “We’ll not find answers in this room.”

  “Agreed.” Declan stood. “We’ll check in with each other if any new information is found. Right now, I have a beautiful wife waiting for me at home.”

  “Should we acquire a runner?” Peyton scrubbed a hand over his face.

  Graydon sat quietly for a moment, the gravity of
the situation weighed heavily. “Let’s hope not.”

  “We’re going to figure this out, don’t let it drive you crazy.” Parker called from the door. “We’ll see ourselves out.”

  Over the next few days, Graydon learned everything he could about the men on his list. Where they went, what they were hiding. Their deepest darkest secrets, though none of it seemed to point in his direction. But during that time, he received two more messages. One left at his club and one left on his front step. He wished he could just ignore the notes, but at his usual weekly visit to his mother’s for tea that Wednesday it all changed.

  Graydon dropped into his usual seat, a faint creaking reminding him of how delicate his mother’s furnishing were. He wished he were sitting in his large comfortable chair in front of his fireplace instead. Leaning forward to grab a miniature cake from the tray in front of him, he noticed the square of paper with his name written in a dark scrawl on the small table to his right.

  “Where did you get this, Mother?” Graydon asked trying to conceal the weary sigh that escaped him; a chill coursed down his spine. His fear only intensified as he thought of the two girls that would be traipsing through these very halls tomorrow, and the next, for a fortnight. How was he to protect everyone when they were spread across London?

  There was no guarantee of safety.

  No one was safe. No one.

  “Butterfield found it on the front step this morning when he was retrieving the news sheet, darling.” She looked up from pouring his tea. “Have you not informed all of your acquaintances that you have a house all to yourself?”

  He pasted a smile on his face before looking up from the note. “You are correct as usual, Mother. Apparently I’ve forgotten to inform a few of my acquaintances.”

  “Of course I am, dear.” She went on when he remained silent. “I’m surprised it has taken you this many years to acknowledge my brilliance.”

  His gaze shifted to the empty seat beside his mother. “Where is Miss Clayton?” He had noticed she hadn’t joined them for tea during his last three visits.

  She smiled, waving her hand towards the door. “She is napping.” She took a bite of cake, her eyes closing in pleasure. “She tires more and more as the year’s progress.”

  “Perhaps you should pension her and find a younger companion.” He shook his head. “Do you leave the house alone, Mother?” If anything happened to his mother he would kill the son-of-a-bitch responsible—damn the consequences.

  “Don’t be silly, Graydon.” His mother shot him an irritated glance. “Minerva has been with me for twenty-something years and I am certainly not going to send her to live in a cottage in some godforsaken country town.” An uncertain look passed over her features. “Is something the matter, Graydon? Should I be concerned?” She narrowed her gaze.

  Graydon cleared his throat. “Of course not, Mother. I just hate to see you alone.” He needed to make sure his mother was protected, he was going to make sure that he had Butterfield place two of their brawniest footman at the front and back doors just to be safe. He smiled. “It seems you are alone more and more lately.”

  His mother’s eyes glittered at him. “Besides, your sisters arrive tonight.” She pointed out with a wave of her hand. “So I will have a megrim by morning and be taken to my own bed by afternoon, just as Minerva.”

  Graydon sat back and sipped his tea. “There is never a dull moment, Mother.” He raised his cup in a salute.

  After leaving his mother’s, Graydon made his way directly to Ashford House. She had already gotten under his skin. It was foolishness. If he were truly honest with himself, she had never been far from his thoughts. When he thought of her she was the epitome of the perfect lady, even before they had spoken one word. And now that they had—now that they had done so much more, he would die before he let some lunatic harm one hair on her head. What harm could come from visiting her? He ground his teeth together. Yes, what harm could possibly come from such an innocent visit?

  He stood on the steps staring at nothing, wondering why he had not called on her before today when the door opened. Shaking himself out of his reverie he held out his card. “Lord Rockwell to see Lady Piper.”

  “Of course, my lord.” Bertie accepted his card. “I will see if she is at home, my lord,” he said, ushering Graydon into a pleasantly furnished salon in soothing shades of blue where he proceeded to stare out the large window as he waited for Piper to join him. It had been a long, frustrating week for Graydon. Trying to figure out who was trying to frighten him only to find out that they were not above threatening his family and possibly his friends. He couldn’t dismiss her from his thoughts so easily.

  Piper allowed a satisfied smile to curve her lips as she stepped into the room, her blue eyes devoured the line of his broad shoulders and back encased in blue superfine, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, white lines noticeable where his fingers gripped one another. She could sense his raw power from across the room. Even from this distance she could see that something was wrong. He seemed as a tightly drawn bowstring ready to snap.

  Stepping through the doorway, she paused. “My lord?” Her blue eyes filled with concern.

  Graydon jerked at the sound of her voice, then looking over his shoulder, swallowing hard before turning from the window. Surprisingly, he allowed his gaze to drift downward, before returning to her face to where she had her silver-framed spectacles perched on her nose. Hunger prowled through his system. He wanted to remember everything, her dress, her eyes, her smile, and her scent. His fear of loss caused irrational thoughts to pass through his mind.

  Irrational.

  He gave an unwitting shake of his head, attempting to clear the dark thoughts.

  She slowly arched a brow, her gaze never wavering from his amber eyes. Shivering at the intense gaze in his eyes which didn’t falter. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Gathering her courage, she rushed forward, halting directly in front of him, the air around them fairly hummed with unanswered questions, and she waited for him to explain, but the only thing that came were his strong hands circling her arms, drawing her against his chest.

  “Graydon?” Her breath seized as she watched his eyes feasting on her features, memorizing the curve of her jaw, the line of her lips, the depths of her gaze. “Has something grievous occurred?”

  His gaze bore into hers, his nostrils flared. “I just had an overwhelming desire to see you again, Piper. I pray you don’t mind,” he said, his voice gruff.

  She exhaled in relief. “Graydon,” But even knowing the shortness of their true acquaintance she raised her hand to run her fingers from his jaw to his forehead tracing the worried lines that formed there. Pulling back, her gaze locked with his. “Dear me, whatever’s the matter?”

  “I’m afraid this is not a social call.”

  “I gathered that by the dark cloud hovering above your head, my lord.” She glanced up, looking him over slowly, confusion marring her features. “However, pulling me into your arms is quite contrary to that statement, wouldn’t you agree?” Her brow arched.

  He gave her a disconcerted look. The clock upon the mantle chimed the quarter hour, surprising Graydon from his daydream which he had drifted. Leaning down he pressed his lips to hers in a whisper of a kiss. So fleeting she could have imagined that it had occurred if not for the heat that spread from her lips to her toes.

  “Perhaps we can sit, my lord.” Lowering her hands, she gestured towards the blue brocade settee. “Would you like me to ring for refreshments?”

  He waited for her to sit, then sat beside her. Without wasting any more time, he inquired, “Have you received any anonymous messages left at your door, Piper?”

  “I have not.” She turned to him, she thought for a minute. “But perhaps Parker or even Peyton have been recipients of such messages.” She pushed her spectacles up. “I could ask Bertie?”

  “That’s not necessary.” His brow furrowed. “These messages would be specifically addressed to you.”
>
  “Why?” She blinked at him, shoving her spectacles up the bridge of her nose.

  “Because of your association with me, Piper.” He reached for her hand, his expression earnest. “They are trying to hurt those important to me. They are trying to frighten me.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “And by threatening those close to me, they must feel they can weaken my resolve.”

  “Why are you being threatened?”

  “We haven’t figured that part out as of yet.” He grimaced. “Your brother’s and Hawksley are assisting me with this riddle.”

  He tugged firmly at her hand until she fell into his arms. Her breath caught somewhere in her throat, his warm breath on her cheek as he bent down until his lips hovered over hers before placing his index finger on her lips. “I want your promise.” His amber eyes were ablaze. Abruptly, he pulled away from her. “Promise me you will let me know if something untoward happens.”

  Her eyes sought his. She reached up and cupped his jaw with her hand, nodding in understanding. “Of course,” she assured him. “I will make sure I let you know if I notice any dangerous-looking strangers lurking about.”

  His hand brushed a tendril of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He gazed in her eyes, his eyes glowed with an unspoken need, and his heart beat wildly inside his chest. He realized at that moment how essential she was to him.

  Essential to his living.

  He swallowed hard. He knew at that moment, he would do anything that was necessary to keep her safe. Then he dipped down to kiss her lips and all the air left the room.

  This was what she wanted. What she waited for.

  This was the unexplainable that she was missing. This made all the rest seem so trivial. So unnecessary. Leaning into him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fingers tangled in the thick, curls resting on his nape.

  He captured her head with his hand, holding her in place as he swirled his tongue inside her mouth and found himself surrounded by her scent and her taste, aroused by the sweetness of her plump lips pillowed beneath his own.