He couldn’t stop himself any more than he could stop the moon from rising or the stars from coming out at night. He took her mouth with his. Sweet yet spicy. Gentle yet strong. She was a mix of contradictions, and he was grateful she’d entered their lives. His grandmother wasn’t the only one who’d come to care for her.
He eased closer still to draw her into his arms, loving the feel of her against him. The touch of her fingers against the hair at the back of his neck sent desire pulsing through him. He eased his hands to her narrow waist, wishing he could feel her rather than the layers of clothes.
Just as he deepened the kiss, Sophia drew back.
“Elliott?” Her whisper paused his movements.
“Yes?” He did his best to calm his passion. No doubt she intended to call a halt to this. He braced himself.
“You feel divine.”
Chuckling, he placed a hand along her cheek. “I was thinking the same of you.”
She mirrored his movements, and he tipped his head toward her hand on his cheek, her touch deepening his need for her. With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again. He parted his lips, hoping she’d do the same. When she did, he swept his tongue against hers.
She stilled for a moment as though surprised, then joined in the kiss.
What was it about this woman that inflamed his senses so? He had no doubt she was innocent, but the way she responded to him made him want to carry her to the settee and have his way with her.
Instead he eased back to look into her eyes, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, determined to enjoy this interlude. “Will you sit with me for a time?”
Those wide hazel eyes blinked at him. “Of course.”
With her hand in his, he guided her to the settee and sat beside her, taking her in his arms once more. “Your skin is so soft,” he murmured as he kissed her cheek then down her neck.
“Oh?” The breathlessness of her response, along with the way she tilted her head to allow him better access, sent his need for her spiraling deeper.
He kissed her, his tongue sweeping more forcefully against hers, intent on showing her how much he wanted her. Again, she matched his movements.
More. He wanted so much more. He reined in his desire but gave into the urge to run his hand along her jaw and down her neck. Continuing his exploration, he eased over her collarbone, her pulse there quickening as he caressed her. The smoothness of her skin drew him, and he moved closer to the modest neckline of her gown.
“Oh. My.”
“So perfect.” He watched her as he lowered his fingers to caress the top of her full breast, back and forth, until he reached his goal. The tip of her breast was taut, growing tauter still as he touched her.
Her head fell back on a sigh, eyes closed, cheeks pink with desire.
The way she responded to him had his body pulsing with need. But no. Sophia was a woman to be wooed and won, not to be used for a quick toss. Knowing he gave her pleasure was enough for the moment.
He eased down the neckline of her gown and lowered his hand to lift her breast free, desperate to see her. The rosy tip beckoned, and he dipped his head to place gentle kisses along her supple skin until he reached her nipple. His tongue circled the tip repeatedly before at last suckling her.
Her moan was his reward.
Shifting to the other side, he gave her other breast the same attention. Her passionate response tightened his body painfully until he throbbed with desire.
“Elliott.” The way she uttered his name was part demand and part plea.
It didn’t matter which as he was happy to continue. He sought the hem of her gown, wanting closer contact. He ran his hand along the length of her leg, pleased to find every inch of her as soft as her breasts.
He kissed her again as he continued his journey to her thigh, shifting aside her undergarments to touch her bare flesh.
Her tight embrace felt like heaven as her tongue swirled against his. When her clever fingers unbuttoned his suit coat and vest, he realized how much he wanted her touch. “Yes, my sweet,” he urged as he eased back.
“I want to see you. To touch you.”
He wanted her so much he feared his need might frighten her. He shoved it back once again, telling himself he wanted a few more minutes before stopping this madness.
In short order, she’d unbuttoned his shirt to caress his chest. Nothing had ever felt so good. He wanted her to experience that as well. He lightly skimmed her warm, delicate skin. The scent of her arousal made him ache.
As he grew closer to the center of her body, she drew back.
“Elliott.” Her eyes had darkened with passion but her brow creased with worry. “This is...wonderful. A true gift.” She seemed surprised at her own response. “But I can’t do this.”
He wanted to tell her she was wrong. That she was doing it very well. But no matter how much he wanted her, he respected her and her wishes, even if he was tempted to try to change her mind.
She adjusted her gown as he watched, but he wished she were removing it instead.
To his surprise, she reached up to place her hands on his face, holding him still. Then she kissed him, her tongue reigniting his desire threefold. After several delightful minutes, she pulled back, resting her face against his.
The sweet gesture had something in his chest loosening, twisting, hurting.
Then she was gone, the door closing gently behind her. Though he told himself it was for the best, deep inside, he wanted more. Until he determined exactly what that was, it would be wise to keep his distance from the tempting lady.
Why did he doubt that was possible?
Chapter Eight
Sophia rose early, having tossed and turned most of the night. She wrapped herself in a robe and pulled her chair to the window that overlooked the dim street.
Delivery men’s carts plodded past. Dustmen with their fan-tailed hats, baggy flannel jackets, and red breeches drove by in a high-sided cart. “Dust-ho!” they called out to notify the servants they were near if the household rubbish needed to be emptied.
But none of that distracted her from her worry.
Elliott had awakened a passion within her she hadn’t known existed. All her life, she’d never understood why her mother had married her father. Why she’d stayed with him after he’d been unfaithful. Why she’d loved him.
Now she knew.
It had been nearly impossible to leave Elliott’s arms. Her heart twisted in protest as she’d done so. When she was with him, he made her believe happily-ever-after was possible. She’d wanted to see what making love with him would feel like as much as she wanted to breathe.
But the memory of her aunt’s warnings over the years had stopped her from giving into her passion.
Sophia was well aware of the dangers of being with a man out of wedlock. She’d be ruined if caught or if she conceived a child. Finding another position would be impossible.
After her mother’s death, Aunt Margaret revealed that Sophia’s mother had been intimate with her father prior to their marriage. She said it was only by the grace of God that her father had married her, otherwise she might’ve been forced into a life on the streets. If a woman had neither money nor a family who supported her, her only means of survival might be prostitution.
Sophia shuddered at the thought of being labeled as a “fallen woman” like those described in The Seven Curses of London. While her life hadn’t been easy compared to some, it would be far worse if she were ruined.
Yet part of her believed with all her heart that Elliott was a man of honor. He might have a reputation as a scoundrel, but she knew him. At least, she hoped she did.
She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the cold windowpane as she remembered an argument her mother and Aunt Margaret had when they first went to live with her. Despite her father’s philandering and leaving them penniless, her mother still loved him. Aunt Margaret told her she was a fool. Sophia’s mother disagreed, insisting her husband
had good intentions and never meant to leave them in such dire circumstances.
Aunt Margaret replied that words held little value. Actions were what mattered. Sophia agreed with her aunt. Pretty words and promises were empty unless one followed through and made good on them.
No matter how much she wanted to believe Elliott was honorable, he hadn’t offered anything to reassure her, not even pretty words.
Regardless of the temptation, she couldn’t risk giving into him, not in her precarious position. Her future was at stake, whereas he risked nothing by being with her.
A small corner of her mind worried that Elliott would dismiss her since she’d denied him. But her more logical side insisted he wouldn’t do such a thing.
Though reason told her she’d done the right thing by walking away, the ache in her chest said otherwise.
She couldn’t bring herself to be grateful for Aunt Margaret’s dire warnings ringing in her ears, not with that ache.
As best she could, she pushed her worries to the back of her mind and dressed, suddenly anxious to look in on the countess.
It was far too early for her to be awake, but the urge to make certain she rested comfortably had Sophia hurrying to her room. Perhaps she could send the maid to bed and sit with her until she woke.
She opened the door quietly and stared in surprise, her heart melting. Elliott was sprawled asleep in the chair, the maid nowhere in sight. His dark hair tumbled across his forehead, his expression peaceful. He still wore the clothes he’d had on last evening. She had no doubt he’d spent the rest of the night at his grandmother’s side.
Elliott might have the reputation of a rogue, but his actions spoke otherwise.
She pressed a hand to her chest, rubbing, but to no avail. The ache only hurt worse. What on earth was she to do about her growing feelings for him?
~*~
The next few days were a struggle for Elliott. He only wanted to remain home, both to keep watch over his grandmother, and to be close to Sophia.
But once again, duty called. His counterpart had come across the same information Elliott discovered. Confirming rumors was an important part of the process of gathering intelligence. When a threat was verified, it elevated in status, which justified putting more resources in place to uncover additional details.
Unfortunately for Elliott, that meant more of his time. While relieved to know his grandmother was recovering, he hadn’t managed a moment alone with Sophia.
Considering how little he’d been home, their lack of time together wasn’t a surprise, but he was starting to wonder if she was deliberately avoiding him. It wasn’t difficult to interpret the doubt and caution in her eyes the few times he’d seen her. Part of him wanted to pull her into the closest empty room when he next saw her and kiss her senseless to remove that look.
But the other part of him understood her confusion and doubt. He felt the same. Sophia roused feelings in him that he’d never experienced, and he had no idea what to do with them.
With everything else happening, he told himself he’d resolve things with her after the looming threat was removed, and he had time to think, to decide what he wanted.
Even to his ears, that sounded hollow. He was normally a man of action, indecisiveness not part of his nature.
As a viscount’s daughter, Sophia was not only a lady by birth but also in the way she acted. If he wanted to move forward with her, he needed to consider the options carefully. With so many pressing issues vying for his attention, postponing any decisions regarding her seemed the best option.
Yet as he walked into his grandmother’s bedroom and his gaze caught on Sophia, all logic flew out the door as affection took hold in his chest and squeezed. Tight.
She sat before the window, rare afternoon sunlight streaming in, lighting her dark curls with a golden glow, her focus on the thread in her lap. His world shifted, his worry over the recent threats easing. It was almost as if when he was in her presence, the world realigned. All was well as long as she was near.
The thought both excited and terrified him. And he had no idea what to do about it.
“Elliott.” His grandmother’s greeting from her bed drew his focus.
“I have come to see how my favorite patient is doing,” he said as he kissed her cheeks.
“I would prefer a more affectionate term of endearment as I do not intend to be a patient any longer than I must. I am growing stronger by the day.”
He eased back to study her. The bruise on her forehead had faded to purple. “I like the pink in your cheeks, but I don’t care for the roughness of your voice.”
“Sophia insists I sound as if I swallowed a frog.”
Sophia’s gaze met his as she rose and curtsied. The deepening pink in her cheeks caused his pulse to speed.
“I believe she is correct.” They shared a smile, which only made his heart pound faster. He wasn’t certain what to make of his reaction to her today.
“Do you believe she’s improving?” he asked.
“Indeed, I do.” Sophia shifted her gaze to his grandmother. “She insists she’ll return to normal activities on the morrow.”
Elliott frowned. “It seems far too early for that.”
“Nonsense,” his grandmother argued. “I can’t continue to lie abed. I will drive Sophia to tears with boredom. Going out and about stirs the senses, you know. Quite good for one’s health.”
“Do you promise to return home the moment you feel tired?” He knew there was no point in arguing with her. She knew her own mind. His only hope was to encourage her to act in moderation.
“Of course. Sophia and I have already discussed this at length.”
Once again, he was grateful for Sophia’s presence, not to mention her level-headedness. Since he had to be gone so much right now, he didn’t know what he’d do without her to watch over his grandmother.
“You’ve certainly been busy of late.” His grandmother’s tone held a note of admonishment.
Guilt resurged, though it was never far from the surface. “I expect my calendar will ease in a week or two.” He wished he could tell her more. Tell them both more.
It would be helpful to discuss the details of what he’d learned to gain another perspective. A woman’s viewpoint might be especially insightful. They observed different things than men.
But he had no desire to put either of them at risk. Learning of his activities might do just that. Those wishing to cause harm grew more clever by the day. He knew of two lords who’d discovered Russian anarchists working as footmen in their own home.
“So many events to attend. Busy time of the year.” He gave a careless smile, aware of Sophia’s watchful gaze.
A sinking feeling came over him. How could he consider having a relationship with her when he continually told her lies?
How much had his grandfather told his grandmother? Where was the line between keeping one’s family safe and sharing honest communication?
“Did you hear the Royal Albert Hall is open?” his grandmother asked.
“The concert hall?” Elliott nodded. “I understand the Queen made a rare public appearance at the opening ceremony.”
“My cousin’s family, the Fairchilds, attended a concert last week. Dalia told us it was superb,” Sophia said.
“Are you planning to attend a concert soon?” Elliott asked.
“Yes, though we haven’t determined which one.” His grandmother pushed herself higher against her pillows. “Sophia is acquiring a schedule so we might decide.”
“Let me know which one you select. Perhaps I will invite myself along.”
“We would like nothing more. Isn’t that right, Sophia?”
Her companion merely nodded, not acting pleased in the least.
“I am also considering throwing a party.” His grandmother tapped the bed cover with a finger as she gazed out the window. “Nothing too large, of course. Something intimate.”
Sophia looked up from her needlework to watch his grandmother.
Apparently, this was the first she’d heard of the plan. She glanced questioningly at Elliott.
“Not until you have fully recovered, I hope,” he said.
“Of course not. In a few weeks.”
“I wouldn’t want you to overtax yourself with the planning and arrangements.”
“I have Sophia to assist me. It has been far too long since we’ve held a sizeable gathering here.”
He could only think of one or two since his grandfather’s death, other than intimate dinners with relatives.
“Sophia should meet some young people her age.”
Sophia’s head popped up in alarm. “There’s no need to have a party for my benefit, my lady. I’m quite content.”
“Nonsense. You cannot remain a companion forever.”
“Actually—”
His grandmother waved her hand in dismissal. “Despite what your well-meaning aunt told you, it’s a terrible notion. There is more to life than spending time with an old woman.”
“But—”
“I would like to rest for a spell, so I will ask you both to leave me for a time.” She held up her finger. “I promise not to rise without calling for the maid. I won’t risk falling again.”
In short order, Elliott found himself standing in the hall with Sophia, perplexed by his grandmother’s behavior. He studied Sophia. “What was all that about?”
“I have no idea.” She stared at the closed door as though as puzzled as he.
Elliott hesitated but couldn’t help himself. “May I ask what your aunt told you?”
For a long moment, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. “She suggested obtaining a position and earning a wage would be the best course of action for me.”
He took her elbow to steer her toward the stairs, not ready for her to disappear now that they were finally alone. “Not finding a husband?”
“She never married and frequently pointed out the disadvantages of my mother’s decision to do so.” She looked decidedly uncomfortable with the conversation.
Despite that, Elliott couldn’t help himself. “Why?”
“My father left us in less than ideal circumstances when he died. According to my aunt, he was a rogue who spent money beyond his means on women and horses, even during their marriage.”
Tempting the Scoundrel (The Seven Curses of London Book 5) Page 8
