“You’re a duchess,” he pointed out. “Is it not up to society to conform to you and not the other way around?”
“For a duke, perhaps. Not so much for a duchess. Do not mistake me, I am afforded respect for my title, but I take no pleasure in it. That’s why I prefer to spend time with my true friends.”
Pierce nodded. He could understand that. When he tried to stop gambling, he hadn’t been sure he had any true friends. Giles wasn’t interested in more wholesome pursuits with him—riding, boxing, fencing. He only wanted to spend time with him when they were playing cards. The same went for many other friends. He found it hard to extricate himself from them without becoming thoroughly lonely and despondent.
“So, Cynfell, what am I to do with you now?”
He glanced at her, surprised. He shouldn’t have been. Had she not just spoken of her unguarded tongue? But the riot of images assaulting him blazed through his mind. It was not so much what he wished her to do with him—though there were a few things—but what he wished to do with her.
Tear her from her chair perhaps and press her face down on the table so he could flip up her skirts and touch the soft skin of her thighs. Take her from behind until she screamed his name—his first name. There were many, many more things he could think of, but if he pictured them, he’d be hard as a stone.
“Am I to send you back to London?” she clarified. “I can have my carriage return you tomorrow.”
He gave a sigh. “That, perhaps, would not be such a good idea.”
“Because of the wager.”
“Because of many wagers. I’d better return to Lockwood Manor in Warwickshire.”
She gave a little nod of understanding. He peered at her, trying to see that look of condemnation that he knew he’d see in his brother’s gaze. There was nothing worse than feeling no older than ten when one was a grown man. But that look wasn’t there. Nor did she push him for details. Given her curious state, that surprised him. He strongly suspected that even before he did return to his family home, she’d surprise him many more times.
Chapter Four
Evelyn paused at the top of the stairs and pressed her hands down the bodice of her rich purple gown. She checked the ruffles at the end of the sleeves and drew in a breath. She had to suppress a yawn as she descended the stairs into the hall of Fairchester. Sleep had proved elusive, and she knew why.
Pierce Cynfell.
Dining with him had reminded her of her lonely state. Watching him had only emphasised how much she missed male company. Once in bed, she imagined the things he could do to her. Pierce Cynfell was a man after her own heart in many ways. Smart, bold, a little reckless.
Though he had financial troubles if his word were anything to go by.
She could find out exactly what sort of trouble he was in easily enough.
Not that she wanted to give him her heart. She wouldn’t give anyone her heart again. Grief was simply too painful. Her husband might have passed over seven years ago but she still recalled the ragged, raw ache it caused. And of course, there had been their second child...
She shook her head. No, her heart would never be in danger again. However, with a man like Cynfell, he wasn’t after hearts. No, he wanted more. More wealth. Perhaps more pleasure in life. He was greedy. She didn’t blame him. She was the same. She longed for a more interesting life. It was why she so often pushed her boundaries. When one had lost so much, it didn’t feel like there was much left to risk. Those were the sort of chances she enjoyed taking. Evelyn was greedy for experience.
But, alas, her experience with Pierce Cynfell was coming to an end. He’d return to his brother, likely get his debts written off and go back to London to increase his debt once more. She had known many a good man do the same.
When she stepped outside, she found the coach waiting but no sign of Pierce. The weather was clear. A few wispy clouds trailed across the sky but there was no threat of rain so he would make good time to Warwickshire. The scent of freshly cut grass breezed through the air, and she spotted her gardeners out tending to the lawns.
Evelyn sighed. Surrounded by people, yet alone. Being a wealthy duchess had some positives but the isolation wasn’t one of them. Her house was set on the fairly flat land close to the River Cherwell. Few passed by and fewer came to stay.
She turned at the sound of footsteps on the stone steps. Pierce stepped out of the double doors and Evelyn had to admire him. It was interesting that no pang of grief hit her when she saw him in her husband’s clothes. Instead fingers of excitement skipped up her spine. In buff trousers, a red embroidered waistcoat and a greatcoat, he cut an elegant and, dare she say, sensual figure.
Pierce gave a little dip and took her hand to brush a kiss over her gloved fingers. She wished she hadn’t been wearing them.
“I must thank you for your kindness and charity, Your Grace.”
“And I must thank you for your fine company.”
He straightened but kept hold of her hand. His gaze searched hers and her breaths stuck in her chest. What did he wish to see?
“No thanks necessary. I am forever in your debt.”
“I don’t think you need any more debts.”
He chuckled. “You would be right there.”
“I can help if you wish it.”
His brows dipped. “You hardly know me, Evelyn.”
“I’m a good judge of character, I can promise you that much. But I see you have some scruples at least.”
Pierce’s grin widened. “So I do. How astonishing.”
Was it odd to feel a connection with a man she hardly knew? One that ran deeper than pure desire? She wasn’t looking for love. But connection? Yes. She’d been craving that for a long, long time.
“Well...”
“Well...” His smile turned wicked. “Do I get a farewell kiss?”
Evelyn narrowed her gaze at him. The audacity of the man. She couldn’t help but like it.
“Very well then.”
Moving onto tiptoes, she leaned in. It started chaste. A brief brush of the lips. A goodbye kiss. Then it deepened. The parting of lips. The sweep of a tongue. He released his grip on her hand and drew her close, tilting her just enough so that her body was open to the feel of his. Even through the layers of their clothing, she was aware of his firm chest pressing against hers. Her nipples were hard and aching against her corset.
Evelyn softened into him. It didn’t matter that the driver and footmen were likely watching them, open-mouthed. She cared little for their opinions and it tickled her that they’d be gossiping tonight.
The heat of Pierce’s palm pressed through her gown and fairly branded the base of her spine. Heat washed over her in waves as his tongue searched her mouth and he pressed harder. She knew with utter certainty she wanted this man—that he would give her what she’d been longing for.
He broke away, his breaths coming hard. “I won’t apologise. I’ve been wishing to do that since yesterday.”
“I would expect no apology nor ask for one,” she replied huskily. She gripped his arm, fearing he intended to leave her. “Stay.”
Both dark brows rose but he remained.
“I have a proposal. Please stay.”
He inclined his head. “As if I could say no.”
“Baker, take the carriage away,” she said to the driver. “We won’t be needing it today.”
The closed cab rumbled off, and she prayed she was right, that Pierce would accept her proposal.
Evelyn led him into the house and through the main drawing room to the study. It might all belong to her son, but while he studied she ran everything. Evidence of her work was scattered across the tops of the three desks while books sat open. She ignored the overstuffed and worn armchair her husband used to occupy and motioned to the chair opposite the largest desk.
He sat and watched her expectantly. “This is all very curious, Evelyn.”
Hands clasped in front of her to stop them from shaking, she paced past him and then
back. How did one propose such a thing? Bold she might be but in matters of the...well not the heart, but the body at least? She hadn’t kissed another man since Edmund’s passing. The taste and feel of Pierce still burned on her lips and threatened to light a fuse through the rest of her body. She felt a little like a powder keg next to a lit fire. One spark and she’d explode.
“I have been of the mind to—” No, that was too formal. “Cynfell, I think—” No, too brash.
He stood and brushed his hands down his trousers to straighten them. “Evelyn, out with it. You need not feel uncomfortable around me. I know you are not one to mince your words.”
She gazed into his youthful face and smiled. “I think there are few who feel uncomfortable around you. You have a way of putting people at ease and you well know it.”
Pierce gave a shrug. “I am skilled at many things.”
“And as a lover?”
He skimmed a hand down her arm. “I have had no complaints.”
Evelyn pursed her lips and summoned her courage—a courage that never normally seemed so distant. “What if you were to be my lover?”
“Your lover?” He said the words slowly, tauntingly, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility. She had the strong suspicion he was toying with her.
She moved away from him in a bid to ensure he didn’t doubt her words. Setting her hands on her hips, she eyed him. “At this time in my life, I see no point in dancing around the things that one wants. I am attracted to you, Cynfell, and I believe you are to me too.”
“It’s safe to say that, yes.”
“Therefore, I think we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“I’m sure we can find a way to make this very beneficial for both of us.” Pierce slunk closer, forcing her to hold up a palm.”
“I don’t wish for a quick tumble. I am a flesh and blood woman, and I have needs.”
“Yes.” Another step closer.
“What I am trying to say, is that I see no need to waste time. I can offer you much, and in return, you can give me the things for which I wish.”
“And these are?”
“Pleasure, the comfort of another human being, good conversation, company.”
“Not much then,” he said dryly.
“For three months.”
“My, you have thought this out.” His lips twisted into a wry grin.
“And in return, I shall pay off your debts.”
His mouth opened slightly before he snapped it shut. “You’re buying me?”
“Yes.” There was no polite way to put it so she didn’t even try. “I’ve been of a mind to take a lover for a while but no man appealed. Until I met you. I believe you are up to the task.”
Pierce ran his gaze over her from head to toe. She fought the need to fidget or play with the buttons on her gown. Why did he make her wait? It was simple enough. Yes or no. All she wanted was an answer.
He closed the gap once more. Heat leapt between them. For too long, he stood with a mere slip of air separating them. When he brought a hand up to skim a finger down her cheek and along to trace the seam of her lips, she drew in a sharp breath of air. Tingles skittered down her spine.
“You make quite the assumption there.” He pressed the tip of his finger into her open mouth and she tasted the tang of his skin. “What if I am not up to the task?”
Heat gathered between her thighs. How could he not be? It had been so long since she’d felt the touch of a man, and he was sinfully handsome. She also suspected he was wickedly clever—something behind those glinting green eyes told her as much. In her limited experience, an intelligent man knew well how to please a woman.
But he was right. What if they were ill-matched? Evelyn fought through the fog crowding her mind to latch onto the rational side of her brain. She would never rush into a business agreement without ensuring she was receiving a satisfactory product.
“You have tonight,” she said, the words soft and papery. “Tonight to prove you are up to the task.”
Pierce removed his finger from her lips and trailed his gaze over her. “What if, Evelyn, it is you who is not up to the task?”
Indignation made her spine stiff. What was he saying? That she could not please him also? “I will be paying you,” she spluttered. “I hardly think it’s up to me to put in a performance.”
A grin cracked his face. “That’s better.”
He latched an arm around her waist and drew her into him. She fought him for a moment, her teeth gritted with annoyance. How dare he manhandle her like this? She was a duchess, damn him. But then his mouth came down on hers, hard, demanding, and oh so sinful...
Evelyn melted. She gave up any thoughts of being in control when his tongue met hers. Pierce bent her back so that her body was open to him while kissing her deeply, greedily. Her skirts might have prevented her from feeling the brush of his legs, but she was well enough aware of his body hard against her tightly confined breasts. The cotton of her shift and the taffeta gown rubbed against her sensitive nipples.
When he broke the kiss, he released her and left her wavering, taking a step back. She pressed her hands down her gown and took several deep breaths.
“If we do this, I shall not be your servant, at your beck and call.”
She folded her arms. “Well I hardly...” Evelyn drew in a long breath, still winded from his passionate kiss. “I hardly see the benefit in this for me then. What is the sense in me taking a lover if I cannot request of him whatever I wish?”
His grin turned wicked. “You need not request anything, Your Grace. I promise you shall reap the benefits of this arrangement. But I wish for us to be on equal footing. I’ll not be ordered about.”
Narrowing her gaze at him, she lifted her chin. How brazen he was. Here he had come to her, naked and destitute, yet he had the arrogance to make demands of her. He was taking a gamble. Really, she should demand back his clothes and toss him out on his conceited, naked behind. But she couldn’t help admire that boldness. He’d need it if he was going to keep up with her.
Her son would be home in three months. That gave her just over ninety days to make use of him—in many, many ways.
“You agree to do this then? We’ll have tonight together and then...”
“Yes.” He inched forward again. “One night and then you’ll decide if I am good enough for you.” The twinkle in his gaze told her he was jesting with her.
When he took another step closer and leaned in she pressed a finger to his lips. “Three months. No more. My son returns then. In return, your debts will be gone.”
“It sounds like a fair exchange to me.”
“How do we seal our deal?” she asked huskily.
“A kiss?” He dipped his head toward her and froze with his lips hovering above hers. “No, something more.”
More. Her eyes near rolled back in her head at the promise in those words. She didn’t know what to do now. The balance of power between them seemed to tip one way and the next. First, it was she who was the seductress, then he stole that control and flipped her about. Heat flared through her body at the promise of what lay between them. She could have everything she’d been longing for with this man—scandal, excitement, pleasure.
Life was for living and she wished to truly live it. Even if only for three months.
“More,” she agreed. She wasn’t sure she was prepared to be taken in her drawing room amongst the portraits of Rupert’s ancestors, but she could hardly back down now, could she?
His lips quirked. Pierce eased his hands about her waist and brought her flush to him. She gasped and clutched his arms. With great leisure, he brought his mouth to her jaw line, tracing along the ridge and down where her pulse kicked in response to the warm lips on her skin. It had been so, so long since she’d had the touch of another man. Every part of her fired in response. She felt as though she stood in naught but her chemise on an icy day—every part of her was tense, shivering, ready to react to the smallest of m
ovements.
And yet a fire had been stoked in her belly and she suspected only Pierce could quench it. There had been opportunities to take lovers before, but none had appealed—until now.
He nipped her ear, taking the fine pearl stud between his lips and sending a shudder through her. When he released it, she had to grip him tight lest her legs buckle. How was it he knew her weaknesses ?
“Let me see you,” he whispered.
Evelyn stiffened. Already, he was making demands of her? Very well. If this was a test of her commitment to these endeavours, she would rise to the challenge. She eased out of his hold and turned.
“My laces,” she told him. “You need to undo them.”
Beginning at the top and working his way down, Pierce put his lips to the back of her neck. She had a long way to go before she was fully exposed but the little brush of air at the top of her spine sent a swirl of excitement into her stomach. This was why she’d chosen him, she realised.
Here was a man who lived on the edge. Nothing was too reckless or scandalous for him. He’d test even her fairly unlimited boundaries. By the time Samuel returned, she wouldn’t have a single regret. She could turn her attention to aiding him with his duties and being the uptight, respectable mother he needed.
Her dress gave way as Pierce eased the fabric down her shoulders. The tightly cut chemise with its low neckline meant he could brush her skin. A breath whispered over her skin and he kissed the very base of her neck.
“Oh Lord.”
“My sentiments exactly.” A smile sat in his voice.
Pierce’s fingers came down to her corset and skilfully worked at the laces. She felt the give of the constricting garment and drew in a long breath. “You’ve done this before, Cynfell.”
“Many, many times,” he agreed.
She supposed some women might be jealous. Perhaps Pierce even wanted her to be—a man’s sense of self was a fragile thing after all—but an inexperienced man was of no use to her.
He drew the corset off and flung it aside. Next petticoats. Her nipples pressed rebelliously against the fabric as though her body was aware of being only a garment away from naked. Remaining behind her, Pierce eased the straps down and let the fabric gather on her arms. She was effectively trapped.
The Cynfell Brothers Collection Page 22
