Christmas With a Scoundrel

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  “What are we doing, pet?” he asked, his voice strangled. “What are we about?”

  She smiled at him, as if she, too, understood his struggle with what was good and proper versus what he desired. “What do you want to be about? For I thought we were both rather clear on this issue earlier.”

  This time, Michael did not temper his words for her feminine ears. “I want to fuck you, Aria. That is what I want. I have from the moment I found you in my stable, all skin and bones and half dead, and God only knows why or what that says about me. I want to sink my cock into your feminine core and give us both the satisfaction I know that I, at least, am craving. I want to leave you naked and panting for breath in my bed, your body hungering for mine. I want you wet between your legs, dripping with anticipation for the moment I take you again. If that makes me a madman, then so be it.”

  Michael could tell by the tremble in her hands that his words had frightened her just a little, but as Mrs. Lambert had pointed out, Aria was not shying away from him, proving that she was indeed as strong as the housekeeper thought.

  “Well, I had decided this morning that I would very much like to seduce you into taking me to your bed.” Aria swallowed hard, refusing to look away, even though he suspected her courage was faltering a bit. “Given that what I imagined is likely much the same as what you described, I do not believe that we are so very far apart in our thinking.”

  “Why?” Before this went any further, Michael had to know her reasons. “Why do you want me? You are an intelligent woman, Aria, and you have to know that I am damaged, likely beyond repair. No one is called Satan’s Physician without some degree of reason, you know.”

  Aria raised her hands and shrugged. “I confess that I do not know why. I simply do. Perhaps I will never know. Like you, I have desired you from the moment I awoke naked in your bed and saw you sitting in that chair. I have no experience with desire but I know attraction. I know that I want you, Michael, despite every good reason why I should not. Is that not enough for now?”

  Well then. Who was he to question such good fortune? “It is. For now.” Michael stalked towards Aria, gratified when her eyes went wide and she took a step back. While he would never harm her, he wanted her with a desire that was hard and primal. She needed to understand that. She needed to understand that he was not always a gentleman. “So know this, pet. I will not take you at this very moment, much as my cock is begging me to do otherwise. I am no savage. But I do want you with a desire that makes no sense and that I cannot control. And I will have you. When the time is right.”

  Aria gripped the back of a chair tightly but met his gaze head on. “And when will that be?”

  “As I said when the time is right. We will know.” He could give her no better answer than that.

  “And until then?” Was he mistaken or was there a quiver of longing in Aria’s response? Oh, he hoped there was.

  “Until then, we indulge in foreplay,” he teased, advancing on her again. “Starting now.”

  He watched the muscles work in Aria’s slender throat. “I have no idea what that is. I am unfamiliar with that term.”

  “Fortunately for you, pet, I know precisely what it means.” As he had been speaking, Michael had also been advancing toward Aria so now he stood only a breath away from her. “And it begins something like this.”

  Just as he had earlier, Michael cupped Aria’s face in his hands before lowing his lips to hers. This kiss, however, was not sweet and tender as the first one had been. This kiss was hard and demanding and relentless. Even more so than the last one they had shared.

  His tongue demanded entrance to her mouth and she gave herself to him freely. He could feel it in the way she surrendered her mouth to his, the way she leaned into him, her still-weak body pressing into his as if her life depended on his strength. For Michael, it was beyond arousing.

  He should stop this madness. He knew that. For nothing good could come of an affair between the two of them, no matter how much he desired her. He did not want a wife and she would either likely flee at the first opportunity or, hopefully, her aunt would come to fetch her. There was no way a lady of ton such as Lady Matilda Gravesend would view a man like Michael as proper husband material for a woman like Aria. Not that he wanted a wife anyway. But if he did? Then would very much desire a wife like Aria.

  Then all thoughts of wives and marriages, aunts and recriminations flew from Michael’s mind as Aria unwittingly shifted her hips against his and made lust pool in his loins.

  Damn it all anyway! He wanted her. Michael wanted Aria and despite what he had just said, he wasn’t certain he could wait. Still, some little voice in the back of his mind warned him that tumbling this woman in his study would be among his worst ideas ever – and he had devised plenty of bad ideas over the years.

  “Stop,” he whispered as he pulled away from her, though he kept his arms tight about her waist. “We must stop this madness, Aria, unless you wish to be truly ruined right here and now.”

  She swallowed hard and Michael could see the silent war going on within her. She wanted him. She was also bold and brash enough to admit that. However, she was also still a lady and all of her lessons in manners and deportment said that proper ladies were not deflowered in men’s studies. At least not if it could be helped.

  “But I want you, Michael,” she finally protested, and he could see her breasts heaving with the exertion of what they had just done. “I thought…”

  “Yes, well it seems I am not so much of a cad or a scoundrel as I had initially thought.” He chuckled lightly. “God above, Aria, I want you. But not like this. A tumble in a man’s study is something suitable for a whore, not a lady.”

  Reaching up, she traced the line of his scar next to his eye and to his own amazement, he did not pull away from her touch. “There are men like my cousin who would say there is little difference.”

  “There is a difference to me.” Michael ran his hands up the length of her body, his fingertips searching out the swell of her breast. “And I will have you here in due time, make no mistake. For I have visions of us naked before this fire, your body slick with sweat as you ride me, your hips straddling mine as my cock moves within you.” He was gratified when she blushed but did not protest and he had a feeling his filthy words aroused her as much as they did him. “However, your first time should be…different. It should be in a bed.”

  “Then when?” Aria demanded as she threaded her fingers through his hair. “I might be innocent, Michael, but I am not stupid. And, I must confess, if my cousin does find me before my aunt can, he will drag me off and I’ve no doubt what will happen to me when he does. So I would very much like the choice of who my first lover will be. And I choose you.”

  Michael graced Aria with another kiss, this one far more tender than he imagined he could be. “And you shall have me. In every wicked way you wish. But not here and not now.” He looked back at the door. “Especially not when I have a house full of servants ready to do your bidding regarding Christmas greenery.”

  Just then a knock sounded at the door and Michael was not surprised when Aria sprung away from him like a scalded cat. She might play the part of seductress, but she was still a lady at heart – something he had known from the first moment he saw her.

  “Doctor? Lady Aria? Are you in there?”

  “That would be Markham,” Michael offered unnecessarily. “Best we see what he wants or I have no doubt he will break down the door if he thinks something is amiss. He has taken quite a liking to you, pet.”

  Aria nodded. “Agreed. But soon?” Her eyes were filled with hope when she asked.

  “Soon,” he whispered quietly. Then he said more loudly. “We are here, Markham and shall be right out.” He offered Aria his arm. “Shall we?”

  “Indeed,” she nodded as she placed her hand on his arm. “We would not wish to keep the household waiting, would we?”

  No, Michael though as they went to unlock the study door, they would not. Nor
could he wait much longer to have her. He had promised her that he would take her when the time was right. If she kept wiggling her hips in that rather alluring fashion as she walked, that time might be sooner than either of them thought.

  Chapter Twelve

  Thornfield Grange looked beautiful if Aria did say so herself as she wandered around the front hall taking in the greenery that festooned nearly every available surface. She had fallen into bed the previous night exhausted but happy knowing that the gorgeous old manor house was decked out appropriately in all of its Christmastide finery. Though she knew she shouldn’t do so, she took great pride in how perfect and festive every last window, side table, and balustrade appeared. This was not her home, after all.

  Though in truth, Aria didn’t really have a home any longer. It wasn’t as if she could return to Millstone. That lovely old house was no longer hers to call home. Thus, she would do here at Thornfield what she could no longer do at Millstone. Not to mention that she did think she had made the servants here very happy. All of them had seemed to enjoy the impromptu decorating party yesterday, even the horse master, Mr. Pike. She had been told by both Agatha and Markham that the horse master was a hard-to-please and rather temperamental sort, but when Aria had smiled at him in the hallway yesterday, he had smiled back rather charmingly and offered to perform any service she required. Michael had whispered in Aria’s ear later that the man had done so only because he was captivated by her beauty.

  At which point, she had all but laughed in Michael’s face, inappropriate though that was.

  Aria was not beautiful. She knew that. She supposed she was not viewed as ordinary because her looks were a bit too exotic to be considered plain – much like Michael’s. They suited in that regard, she supposed, for no one would call him the height of an acceptably handsome Englishman either. Except that he was handsome in his own way. He might not believe that, but he was, and to Aria, he became more and more handsome every day. Not to mention every night as Michael had begun haunting her dreams, her slumbering mind conjuring up images of his half-naked body and making her yearn for more than he had given her thus far.

  She had been certain he would come to her bed last night, but he hadn’t. Instead, she had passed the night alone in her chambers and while her bed was a very comfortable bed, it was also a bit cold and lonely. Odd that. Her bed back at Millstone had never felt lonely. Neither had her bad back on the sugar plantation. Then again, there had not been a sinfully handsome man invading her dreams in those places either.

  Aria had expected to see Michael at breakfast this morning, but she hadn’t. When she had inquired as to his whereabouts, Markham had simply said that “the doctor” had business to attend to elsewhere on the estate. She supposed that made sense, for she could have sworn she heard the clatter of carriage wheels outside her window near midnight last evening. Or she thought it was near midnight. She could not find a clock anywhere in this blasted house and it was driving her mad. She had, thankfully, finally manage to locate her father’s pocket watch, so she had taken to keeping the timepiece on a small bedside table if she wished to know the time in the middle of the night. She didn’t check the time in the middle of the night, at least not usually, but it was just so odd that there were no clocks in this home that she felt an inexplicable need to do so now.

  Aria also suspected that Michael was the reason for the rather shocking lack of timepieces. Even if she didn’t yet know why.

  “Admiring your handiwork, pet?”

  As if merely thinking about him could conjure him from thin air, Aria spun around at the sound of Michael’s voice. “No. Well, yes. Sort of. Your staff did an excellent job with the decorations and should be commended. I had naught to do with it other than suggesting the idea. However, I was wondering where my host had wandered off to this morning, especially as he has made a rather large to-do about me not being alone.”

  Michael wagged his finger at her. “Again, I never said that. You put words in my mouth, pet, though I suspect you do that to most people, headstrong minx that you are. I simply do not want you to go outside and with good reason. Or reasons, as the case may be.” He looked around the grand entrance hall, now redolent with the smell of pine and other greens with red velvet ribbons festooned everywhere. “Here within the walls of Thornfield, you are perfectly safe. For now.”

  “Fine.” Aria crossed her arms over her chest, noting that Michael’s eyes immediately strayed to her breasts. Good. The more she tempted him during the day, the sooner he would come to her at night. “And for what it is worth, I agree with you about not venturing outside yet. The fire nearly died in my chambers last night and I could not remember ever being so cold, even though fires have died on me at night many times in the past. Yet this particular chill? I swore I could feel to my very bones.”

  Michael nodded. “That is still the lingering effects of the cold and your time out of doors.” He reached out and took her wrist in his hand, his fingers easily encircling the delicate bones. “You are still thin, Aria. I am certain you feel fine enough but you were on your own for a fortnight or more. You did not sleep, eat, rest or shelter properly. Your body suffered because of that. Such exposure can have lasting effects we are not even aware of until much later on.”

  “Like my sudden aversion to cold.” She saw his point, even though she had not thought of it before.

  “Like your sudden aversion to cold,” he agreed. “That said, go fetch your warmest cape, cloak or whatever Lady Fairbourne left behind. We are going out of manor for a bit.”

  Aria frowned and regarding him warily. “I thought you just said going out of the manor was a bad idea.”

  Michael grinned back at her, maddening and arrogant man that he was. “It is a bad idea.”

  “Then where are we going?”

  “Go fetch your cloak and you shall see.”

  “Fine.” Aria really had no desire to argue with this man and in fact, she found his manners and challenging way of speaking rather entertaining. For him, words seemed to be very specific things. He did not speak in generalities, though she supposed that made sense. He was a physician. Being extremely specific was part of his job.

  It took Aria less than five minutes to return to the main hall with a cloak. Made of the finest red wool, the thing was a bit too long for her, but Agatha had managed to take it up sufficiently enough over the last few days so that Aria didn’t trip over the excess fabric. It also had a hood which Michael immediately tugged over Aria’s head before tying the ribbons tightly beneath her chin.

  “I am not a child,” she snapped as he stepped back to look at his handiwork.

  His eyes roamed her body hungrily and immediately, she felt a bit flushed. “I am well aware that you are not, pet.” He seemed to give himself a mental shake and cleared his throat. “However, I noticed yesterday that your fingers do not always work as they should, some lingering effects from the cold, I would wager.

  Drat it all, but the man was right as usual. Not to mention far too observant. When she had attempted to tie a bow with Mr. Pike, Aria’s fingers had refused to cooperate. She had brushed the incident aside at the time, but it was worrisome.

  “It will pass in time.” She hoped.

  “I am certain it will,” Michael concurred, “but not at the moment. And for where we are going, you will need your head covered. A body loses a great deal of heat from their head, I have learned, and you have precious little body heat to spare at the moment.”

  “Fine.” This time Aria said the word with a sigh. “You will not be happy until I do as you say anyway.”

  He grinned then and she knew resisting him in just about anything would be a lost cause. He was nearly as stubborn as she, if not more so. “You are right. I will not be. Come, pet. Don’t you want an adventure instead of another boring day cooped up inside?”

  Aria thought about protesting but quickly realized it would do little good. Michael would get his way no matter what she said. He was accustomed to being in
charge. And this was his home. Not hers. She was merely a guest.

  With a shrug, she allowed him to take her hand and begin tugging her down the hallway that led east toward the grand ballroom. She had only passed by the room a few times, including yesterday, but that wing of the house was largely unused, so she had no possible idea what sort of adventure could lay this way. If it was the mostly empty portrait gallery, she had seen that already. She was recovering from an illness, not an invalid, and despite Michael’s warnings to remain abed, Aria had done some exploring on her own that first day.

  Except that they passed the door that led to the portrait gallery. They also passed the door to the ballroom and several other rooms she had yet to explore. Finally, they came to a stop in front of a door that was so deeply inset into the wall, that it looked as if it was part of the wall itself. There was no obvious knob or handle or knocker, but if she looked closely, Aria thought she could see the faint outline of a door where one seam of wood appeared slightly darker than the other.

  Aria frowned as she watched him push on a particular spot that she could not see and watched as the hidden door swung open to reveal a small patch of dim light. “I thought you said we were not going outside. That it was neither a good idea nor safe for me.”

  “It is not.” Michael quirked another grin at her. He had a hundred different smiles, she realized, though she also wondered how often he showed them to others. Not often, she imagined, else this place would be crawling with females eager to find themselves in his bed or as mistress of Thornfield Grange. “But we are not going outside exactly, though we are leaving the manor. We are going…well, you shall see, pet.” He offered her a deep bow. “Ladies first.”

  If Aria had not known better, she would have assumed the man was funning her. She had the distinct impression that Dr. Michael Longford did not jest with just anyone. Only those he trusted implicitly. Did this attempt at a joke mean that he trusted her? He seemed to, she supposed, though such a gift in such a short time of acquaintance seemed unlikely. Then again, much of what she had endured the last few months had once seemed unlikely as well. She supposed that for the moment, it was simply best if she did not over-think the situation. She did that on occasion.