Tempting Miss Daisy: House of Devon

by Andresen, Tammy

  “I don’t care about furniture as long as I have you.” She shook her head, meaning every word.

  His next kiss was long and lingering as his hand slid down her back. “Still, I am glad to give it to you.” He let out a long breath, the moist air teasing her skin and causing goose pimples to rise on her neck. “Devon told me if I followed my heart, good things would come. I didn’t understand at first, but I am beginning to see.”

  “Me too,” she sighed, melting closer to him.

  He brought his hand higher, skimming it over her ribs until he cupped one of her breasts. Never had she felt such pleasure as his palm lightly brushed over her nipple. It formed into a stiff peak, pleasure shivering through her.

  “You’re not wearing a corset,” he said with a soft groan.

  She often left the garment behind when she planned more physical activities with the children, her naturally slender waist making it easy to do. “No. I’m not.” Just mentioning her lack of undergarments made her flush with heat but also a thrill of excitement pulsed through her.

  Her hands seemed to take on a mind of their own as she explored the hard ridges of his torso, skimming along his broad shoulders and then down his muscled arms.

  This man was about to be her husband. They’d share every intimate detail of their lives, and as she touched him, Daisy knew she didn’t want to wait another second. She was ready to be his.

  * * *

  Desire pulsed through him, but Cole held back. Daisy was a tender virgin and they weren’t married.

  But as their kiss lengthened, deepened, and her hands explored every inch of his chest, back, and arms, reason dimmed, and pleasure swelled.

  He touched her too. Along the smooth curve of her back, her tiny waist, her breasts that filled a man’s hand. And when he cupped her behind, pressing her hips closer, they both gasped in pleasure.

  Cole picked her up and settled them into a fresh stall, packed with new hay.

  Laying down, she settled half on top of him as they continued to explore one another. When she brushed her hand over his manhood, stiff with longing, he let out a loud groan of pleasure, unable to hold back. In response, she touched him the same way again.

  His body pulsed with need and he reached for her. “My love,” he said through gritted teeth. “You can’t touch me like that.”

  “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” he groaned in frustration. “It feels so good, but we need to wait.”

  “Oh.” She laughed lightly. “I’ve waited my entire life to meet you. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  Cole groaned again. He’d been waiting a long time too. And Daisy felt better than any woman he’d ever known. “Daisy.” Her hand was still on his parts, and he meant to remove it but somehow, he ended up guiding her to touch him in smooth strokes.

  Both of them were huffing out their breath as the tempo increased.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he finally rolled them over so that she was under him in the hay.

  Sliding his hand up her leg, he parted the seam of her pantaloons, stroking his fingers through the curls of her sex. She moaned, clutching his shoulders as he slid a finger along her slick folds, caressing the swollen flesh.

  Daisy whimpered, digging her fingers into his biceps as he started a rhythm, touching her where he knew she’d like it most.

  Her body tightened, tension filling every muscle as he kept the pace until her pleasure finally broke.

  She cried out, burying her face in his neck.

  “That was beautiful,” he whispered close to her ear.

  She slid her hand down his front again. “Cole,” she said, her voice husky with the intimacy of the moment. “I want to be yours.”

  Part of him wished to resist but he was overwhelmed with love.

  They fumbled with the falls of his breeches until he finally could push the garment down.

  Her skirts were already up about her waist and as he rolled on top of her, the tip of his manhood met her wet folds. They moaned simultaneously as he began to slide inside her.

  He squeezed his eyes shut as he slowly pushed in, feeling her maidenhead. As he thrust past it, she stiffened underneath him, and he stopped, allowing her body time to adjust.

  Slowly, she relaxed, and he started to move again. Her arms locked about his neck as she whispered soft words of love in his ear.

  This was where he belonged.

  It was so clear.

  And as they began to move together, his pleasure climbing higher and higher, he knew he’d made the right choice.

  His pleasure broke in a groan of satisfaction, but they stayed locked together for several minutes afterward.

  Cole would spend the rest of his days following his heart. And his heart belonged to Daisy.

  Chapter Ten

  Two weeks later…

  Christmastide dawned with a blanket of freshly fallen snow. Not that anyone cared.

  Abigail had given birth to a healthy baby boy ten days prior.

  Daisy had been staying with her sister ever since, the details of the wedding falling to Cole as she helped Abigail to recover. She had no idea what to expect, but she realized it was a gift all on its own. The details of her wedding were a wonderful surprise.

  She dressed in her nicest gown, climbing into a carriage next to Rex. Her sister kissed her goodbye.

  They’d decided she and the baby should stay in the warmth of their home rather than travel to the church. Rex and Abigail would host a simple wedding breakfast.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as they made the short ride to the very church Rex and Abigail had married in this past spring. How much had changed since then.

  She was about to embark on her own married life, a new member had joined their family.

  Rex held her hand as she emerged from the carriage, her breath blowing out a cloud of moist air.

  He winked. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” she answered breathlessly as they hurried into the warmth of the church.

  As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she gasped to see the church adorned with holly, mistletoe, and rosemary. Precious orchids stood on either side of the altar.

  Michael and Lily sat to the right, the Duke of Devon and his wife with them.

  Tears filled her eyes to see them, but then her gaze drifted to the front where Cole stood tall and proud.

  He looked more handsome than ever as he held out a hand for her to join him.

  In hushed voices, they each repeated their vows, candles flickering as the warmth from his hands seeped deep into her soul.

  As they finished speaking their vows, Cole leaned over and captured her lips with his. “I love you, Lady Hartwell.”

  A flush filled her cheeks as she realized she’d just become a baroness. “And I love you, Lord Hartwell.” Not that the titles mattered to her. He could have been a butcher and he’d still have captured her heart.

  At last, Daisy was home…

  Tempting Taffy

  Meara Platt

  Hartland Abbey

  Yorkshire, England

  January 1819

  “Who are ye, lass?” Gavin Carstairs, Marquis of Falkirk, demanded of the maid who was busying herself about his guest chamber shortly after his arrival at Hartland Abbey. She was going through his bags to unpack his clothes and stack them neatly in the massive wardrobe that took up a corner of the large room. But he was still on edge and did not want anyone fussing with his belongings just now.

  A fire had been lit in the enormous hearth, casting the room in a warm, golden glow that made this girl look almost ethereal as she turned toward him in surprise. When she approached to bob a quick curtsy before taking her leave, he felt an unexpected warmth flow through him.

  He dismissed the response. Surely, it had nothing to do with the girl. His body was merely warming to the welcome heat of the room, for he’d traveled long on this cold, winter’s day and was half frozen upon arrival.

  “His Grace a
ssigned me to tend to your guest quarters, my lord,” she said while staring at her toes.

  “The Duke of Devon?” This was his home and Gavin was not so much a guest as a man on the run and needing a safe place to hide. “Leave the rest for my valet and get out,” he said, irritated with himself for his body’s inexplicable response to the girl.

  “As you wish, my lord. And what of your son’s belongings? Shall I leave those for him as well?” Her head remained bowed as she spoke. Indeed, she appeared to be modest and obedient, as any good servant ought to be.

  But Gavin sensed her irritation.

  It was nothing he could point to exactly. Her tone was demure and there was no defiance in her expression. She was not even looking at him as she cleared her throat and added, “Although I’m not certain your valet will be able to attend you any time soon considering his leg was broken during last week’s attempt on your life and you left him to recuperate in York.”

  He frowned. “Ye heard about that?”

  She nodded, still not looking up at him. “Everyone here at Hartland knows of it by now. News travels fast. Bad news especially. Thank goodness you and your little boy were not injured.”

  He studied her more closely. “What’s yer name, lass?”

  “Taffy, my lord.”

  He knew it was quite forward of him, but he needed to have a look at her face. She appeared fairly young, perhaps no more than twenty. Certainly not beyond her early twenties. She had a nice figure, that much was obvious, even though her maid uniform was unremarkable. It was of plain homespun, black wool and shapeless. The white linen apron over it was tied in a neat bow at her waist and gave the only hint of her slender figure.

  He reached out and tucked a knuckle under her chin to raise her gaze to his. The splendor of her aquamarine eyes took him by surprise. They were lovely, shaped like a cat’s, and there was a surprising gleam of intelligence behind them.

  Her lips were also nicely shaped, their color a natural, deep pink, and she had an aquiline nose that tipped upward to a point at the end. She had good cheekbones and a firm chin, not one of those weak ones that disappeared into one’s throat.

  No, Taffy had well defined features, and he suspected she also had well defined opinions to match.

  “Will that be all, my lord?”

  “No.” He had an urge to tug the unsightly mobcap off her head and gain a clear view of her hair. The few curls peeking out from under it were the color of dark fire. “Tell me what ye have heard. We were attacked in York last week, but we only arrived here less than an hour ago. How can ye possibly know what occurred?”

  “Well, your coach driver is related to one of the maids in service here and he told her what had happened. We all realized at once that something was wrong because you were missing your valet. The very one you just mentioned.” She arched an eyebrow and regarded him dubiously. “He with the broken leg. Which is why I took on the added role of putting away your clothes. I’ve done the same for your son.”

  She pointed to the wardrobe. “You’ll find your little boy’s belongings neatly stowed in there. I’m almost done with yours, but I can put it all back so that one of the butlers on staff can deal with the chore, if you prefer. I assure you, beyond this little task, I need have nothing more to do with you.”

  He tried not smile, and indeed ought to have been displeased by her comeuppance, but he found her insolence refreshing. Well, it wasn’t insolence so much as bluntness. “Do go on. I’m sure ye have more to say.”

  “It isn’t my place, my lord.”

  She tried to bow her head again, but he still had his hand under her chin and would not allow her to look away. “I want to hear it all. Do not be afraid of me. I will not be angry nor will I hurt ye.” But he did drop his hand to his side, once again irritated with himself for touching the lass, albeit innocently.

  “Even if the coach driver had said nothing, we all would have immediately suspected something was amiss. It is doubtful the heir to the Duke of Inverness would ever travel alone. Indeed, you arrived without the entourage one would expect surrounding you. Also, you arrived just after Christmas, missing the Duke of Devon and his family, as well as all the festivities. The family is no longer in residence now that Twelfth Night has come and gone, and yet here you are. The only guest in this big, rambling home.”

  She paused a moment, but proceeded at his nod. “When you descended your coach, you held your little boy’s hand. Not only that, he was clinging to you and you were allowing it. The poor lad was scared out of his wits, wasn’t he?”

  “Indeed, he was and still is.”

  She met his gaze squarely. “We will keep a vigilant eye on him, my lord. No one will harm your little boy while he is here. But there is something that troubles me deeply.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “What is it, lass?”

  “If someone is attempting to take your life, then why are you keeping your son close to you? Wouldn’t he be safer apart from you, at least until your assailant can be apprehended?”

  The lass did not mince her words.

  He ought to have chastised her for overstepping, but he liked that bit of spirit in her. More important, he liked that she was alert and thinking of Rafe’s safety. He could take care of himself, but the boy was only five years old. Helpless and vulnerable.

  He cast her a mirthless smile. “This madman, whoever he may be, seems bent on killing him as well as me, so I thought it best to keep him close. It is far from ideal, but far worse for me to be apart from the lad if this crazed villain went for him first.”

  Her expression softened. “I see, my lord,” she said, releasing a shaky breath. She nibbled her lip a moment. “I did not know this part of it. I was not aware. Of course, your heart would never recover from such a thing. You’ve come to the right place. We know who belongs and who does not. We’ll keep a sharp eye out for any strangers. As for your son, we’ll all watch over him and protect him as though he were our own.”

  “Taffy, that would ease my mind greatly.”

  She gave a curt bow, and believing herself dismissed, turned to walk to the hidden panel that led down the servants’ stairs. But he stopped her. “Dinna go, lass. Continue putting the rest of my things away. My apologies for snapping at ye when I entered.”

  “Not at all, my lord. You have good reason to be wary.” She cleared her throat. “Since I am to remain, then um...about your weapons...”

  His eyebrow shot up in surprise. “Och, does anything escape yer notice? How did ye find them?”

  “Quite by accident. I heard them rattle beneath the false bottom of your bag when I tried to move it closer to the wardrobe. But I didn’t touch them.”

  He groaned. “Nor shall ye. Are we clear on that point?”

  Her lips were pursed again. “Since I will be attending to your son during your stay, would you consider telling me where you plan to hide them? It would be helpful for me to have this information if the unknown assailant does manage to get in here.” She held out her hands that appeared small and delicate. “I doubt I’d get very far trying to fight him off with my fists.”

  Were all the Hartland maids as unusual as this girl? He doubted it. She was clever, observant, ready to risk her own life to protect his son. If confronted by this elusive villain, he almost believed she would be able to bring him down all on her own.

  They now stood a short distance apart. He dug into his pocket and retrieved a shilling he’d tucked in there earlier today. Without warning, he tossed it to her and was not surprised when she easily caught it with one hand.

  She stared at the coin in dismay. “My lord, I cannot accept this!”

  “Keep it. I have no doubt ye’ll earn it ten times over. This is something appropriately given at the end of my stay, isn’t it? Consider it an early token of my appreciation for yer good services. For yer good services toward my son and nothing more,” he stressed. “I dinna mean it any other way, lass.”

  Some lords thought it was their
privilege to impose themselves on household staff, especially housemaids as beautiful as this girl. He’d never behaved so boorishly and was not about to start now.

  The point of tossing her the shilling was to test her alertness. As he suspected, she was quick to respond. Quicker than most trained soldiers. Indeed, among the best.

  Blessed saints.

  She was no mere servant.

  Who was she really?

  Want to read more? Tempting Taffy

  Coming soon…

  Earl of Gold

  Why did he need love if he had gold?

  The Earl of Goldthwaite had spent his entire adult life accumulating wealth. It was his life’s goal to never end up as his father had, penniless and rotting in some debtor’s prison. He has no time for such silly notions as love or romance. When he eventually marries, he’ll find a nice heiress to increase his holdings. But then Miss Penny Walters waltzes into his life, he knows she’s all wrong for him. As poor as her name implies, she’s nothing that he wanted. Just another woman attempting to part him from his gold. So why can’t he look away?

  Who needed gold when her heart was rich with love?

  Penny’s life had been charmed, at least she’d always believed so. Though her parents had little assets, they’d had enough to be comfortable and their home had been rich with affection. Which was how she’d determined to live the rest of her life. With her whole heart. Her first task was to open an orphanage in a poor London neighborhood. One that would give back to the community. The problem? She needed a loan to make her dream come true. And the one man she might be able to ask for such a sum was…

  The miserly Earl of Gold.

  It filled her with sick dread but what choice did she have? What she never expected was to find herself drawn to such a man. He’s nothing that she ever wanted and everything she wished to stand against. But the longer she knows him, the more she wonders… Is there a soft heart under that hard-shiny veneer of gold?