Seducing Eden

by Allison Lane

  He countered with comments on the weather, their prospects for reaching Hungerford before nightfall, and his hope that the next team of hired horses would be better than the last. Though his words were prosaic, Eden remained off balance, for her treacherous imagination painted pictures that were damnably enticing. How could she suddenly find the act of biting into an apple erotic?

  It was the oddity of the situation, she insisted. She had never actually watched a man eat before. John had held no visual interest, and her attention at dinner parties had always focused on maintaining perfect propriety. Now her eyes kept straying to Portland’s mouth. His smiles displayed even white teeth framed by sensuous lips that looked surprisingly smooth. What would they feel like when pressed against hers? Their mobility was astonishing, turning the most innocuous activities into a sensual display. They curled around chunks of mutton as if kissing them before drawing them inside for consumption.

  Her heart accelerated. And when he lifted his tankard…

  Her gaze froze on his throat, watching the muscles work smoothly as swallow after swallow slid sensuously down to disappear behind his cravat. If only she could tear the fabric away so she could see…

  Stop this nonsense, she admonished herself.

  Yet she inhaled sharply when he lowered the empty tankard and smiled. And when he licked a drop of foam from his upper lip, her tongue swished across her own in response. How would he taste?

  “Are you finished?” he asked. “We’ve a long journey ahead of us.”

  She nodded, unable to speak without betraying her thoughts. The last thing a rake needed was encouragement. Reminding herself yet again that she was in mourning for a man to whom she owed everything, she headed for the door.

  They had barely regained the road before Alex closed his eyes and apparently fell asleep. She didn’t trust that he was actually asleep, but used the time to rebuild her defenses and plan her campaign to interest him in Olivia. Such a campaign would keep her mind focused – but she must do better than she had at lunch.

  Recalling how easily her mind had drifted from her purpose, she amended the assertion. A well-planned and well-rehearsed campaign would keep her mind focused.

  Alex was perfect for her sister. Strong. Attractive. Protective. His proclivities might make a stickler pause, but from comments John had made about his character, she doubted Alex would embarrass his wife by parading his mistresses in public. In this, as in other ways, he was every inch a gentleman. Yet he was far enough down the social scale to accept Olivia as an equal.

  Social status was important, she admitted. Her father had been a vicar, his only connection to society a distant cousinship to Sir Harold. Hardly a connection she could point to with pride. Wedding John had been a huge step up for her, and not one the other Marlows accepted. Richard frankly despised her, and for more than John’s remarriage so soon after Christine’s death. Most of the family followed his lead, so they’d been openly relieved when years passed with no heir. She did not want Olivia to suffer the same antagonism.

  But a vicar’s daughter was closer to an investigator for the Home Office than to the second son of a baronet. It was clear that Alex had money and was well-regarded by the government, but he was at best lower gentry. So Olivia would never suffer disparaging glances and snide remarks from a family that considered her beneath its touch. And she’d mastered the demeanor and duties of a lady better than Eden ever would.

  John had never known how much she’d endured – his family made sure that he didn’t overhear their attacks. Richard was the worst, impugning her honor, suspecting her motives, keeping a firm distance between her and the rest of the family lest her inferior breeding corrupt them. His sisters backed him absolutely. Each had married well above her station – one to a duke – and they despised any reminder of their lower birth. Only Jeremy tried to bridge the gap. But he coveted John’s collection, so she had to question his motives.

  Two years ago, after John had ceased welcoming callers so he could pore over Jasper’s reports on negotiations for the stone, Jeremy had cajoled Olivia into sneaking him into the collection room on at least two occasions – which meant he’d communicated with her in some way Eden still didn’t know. Had he hoped to seduce her into stealing the stone as Sir Harold had seduced Christine? He’d known that tale well enough.

  So Olivia needed a strong husband to protect her.

  As the miles passed, Eden sank deeper into thought and finally into sleep. She didn’t notice when Alex again cradled her against him.

  Darkness descended as Alex stared out the carriage window, wishing the rain would cease so he could ride. The day had been a constant battle between rampaging need and honor. Honor allowed him to bed willing widows, but honor also demanded respect for the recently bereaved. And he owed Eden more than mere respect. His clumsy investigation had orphaned her ten years ago.

  But need had its own demands, and he’d lost some of his discipline over the last two years. It didn’t help that she seemed even more needy than he. Her body tightened at even mild innuendo. When he’d brushed her bosom as he’d helped her into her cloak, she’d nearly convulsed from his touch. He’d never known a more responsive woman. Whether it arose from yearning for the warmth she’d now lost or from need that had never been properly satisfied, he didn’t know. But the passion he could raise so easily made his position far more difficult. Her awareness at lunch had nearly driven him mad with desire. Six months of celibacy was far too long. If he didn’t find release soon…

  He would bed her in an instant if she asked, but he couldn’t push – he repeated that decision several times so his body would accept it. She would never ask, of course. Every time a lascivious thought crossed her mind, she immediately fussed over estate problems or her sister. He understood her tactics. To avoid betraying John, she was clinging to worry.

  Maybe he should send her home so he could concentrate on this investigation. He could find an experienced courtesan to relieve him.

  His groin stirred in protest.

  I know! I know! Her combination of passion and innocence – her shock at her response made her relative innocence clear – promised something different from the usual fare. Not that he would experience it, he reminded himself. Besides, he needed her help with the investigation. Her powers of observation were acute, so her questions might focus his thoughts, preventing him from overlooking vital clues. Granted, she distracted him all too easily, but he could keep his mind clear if he tried.

  Concentration would be easier once he resolved his physical discomfort, of course. And that would restore his discipline and judgment, too. It was bad enough that he’d overlooked his own naïveté ten years ago. He couldn’t afford to enter a new investigation with his instincts dulled.

  The only instinct still sharp was lust.

  Damn, but he wished the rain would stop. The roads were so soggy that reaching Hungerford tonight was problematic. If they stopped sooner, it would be impossible to reach London tomorrow. Could he remain cooped up in the carriage for three days without attacking her? Every touch increased his need.

  As if to torment him, she shifted in sleep, burrowing deeper into his shoulder. Her hand slid into his lap, bumping the erection that had plagued him since she’d arrived frozen and bedraggled on his doorstep. He nearly groaned.

  Before he could shift her to a less dangerous position, her hand closed, kneading until he was blind and shaking. Heat blazed through his body. Excitement nearly convulsed him. He had to stop her before she woke, but it felt so good. Surely another minute couldn’t hurt…

  She changed to long strokes, her nails scoring his length, driving him mad enough to arch against her. He had to move, had to escape her torture, had to—

  Without warning, his control shattered, spilling his seed in his breeches for the first time since his schooldays.

  Shame burned his cheeks when he realized that Eden remained sound asleep. Had she been dreaming of John?

  He couldn’t tell h
er what had happened, nor could he let her see the evidence, for she would conclude he’d taken advantage of her. She would never believe that she’d caught him by surprise, driving him beyond thought.

  Shifting her into a more dignified position, he arranged his cloak to cover his wetness and tried to sleep. Surely this would resolve his immediate problem.

  * * * *

  Eden breathed a sigh of relief when Alex obtained two rooms at Hungerford. Granted, they were connecting rooms, but Carver was with her, so she would be safe. She needed time alone.

  Falling asleep against Alex had been a huge mistake, for it had produced the most lascivious dreams of her life. Her cheeks flamed even thinking about them, for unprecedented curiosity had driven her dream image to touch him, exploring him as she had never done with John. Her imagination had exaggerated his proportions beyond all reason – which itself warned that she was in grave danger. Thank God he wasn’t a mind reader or she could never face him again.

  She forced her thoughts back to Olivia, determined to keep them there for the duration of their late supper. It had been nearly midnight when they’d arrived at the Bear. Any other time, she would have pled fatigue and skipped dinner, but she’d slept away the afternoon. He would brand her a coward if she lied.

  Bracing herself for another hour of fighting lascivious thoughts, she headed downstairs to the parlor.

  But Alex distracted her on his own, remaining the perfect gentleman even after the serving girl left. No hint of flirtation softened voice or features, and that blatant masculinity seemed banked tonight.

  “Tell me more about John,” he began. “Did he share all his research with you, or only the high points?”

  “All. He enjoyed discussing his theories. Even after he began teaching Jeremy about antiquities, he used me to clarify his ideas.”

  “So he kept no secrets?”

  “I don’t know.” She didn’t want to talk about John, but something in Alex’s eyes compelled her to continue. “I didn’t like his obsession with Sarsos, especially his determination to find the stone. And I made my skepticism of sorcery clear. I’ve often feared there was an element of proving-me-wrong in his quest. Would he be alive today if I’d kept my doubts quiet?”

  “Don’t.” He unexpectedly turned serious. “You cannot change the past, Eden, so it does no good to mire yourself in what ifs. That way lies madness.”

  “You sound as if you know.”

  “I do.”

  He said no more, and when she tried to pursue it, he firmly changed the subject, then bade her good night. She could only conclude that he remained mired in some regret he refused to face. Something connected with his broken betrothal perhaps. Would that affect Olivia?

  * * * *

  Alex spent a sleepless night staring at the inn’s cracked ceiling. He should have expected someone of Eden’s intelligence to turn his platitudes back on him. Before he’d realized his danger, her innocent comment had revived the ghosts of investigations he would rather forget.

  Yes, he had regrets. And yes, he knew that dwelling on them did no good. But they refused to go away.

  Masquerading as a French émigré or a French spy had placed him in constant danger of exposure. Twice he’d faced a kill-or-be-killed fight when an enemy tumbled to his duplicity. Twice he’d survived. But the questions never died. What had he done to trigger suspicion? How could he prevent a recurrence? Was he in truth the inept failure his father had so long declared?

  The charges again echoed in his mind. Lazy … incompetent … insult to your Portland heritage…

  He’d heard all that and more from the time he was a boy. Deep down he nearly believed it. If he’d been more competent, more vigilant, more … something … he would not now be laced with scars. How could a man with his flaws solve John’s murder and discover what had really happened ten years ago? Twice he’d been slow to assemble the facts, allowing traitors to continue selling information for weeks after they should have faced justice. Now he faced an even worse fiasco. Could he keep his weaknesses secret, especially from the sharp-eyed Eden?

  He ought to send her away before she recognized his faults, but he couldn’t. Temptation continued urging him to seduce her. She was widowed. She harbored as much passion as he. Bringing that passion to the boil would blind her to everything beyond her own needs. And satisfying those needs…

  Don’t do it! his conscience countered. It is dishonorable. And what if the passion she so easily incites blinds you to all beyond your own needs?

  Lust warred with his ghosts, keeping him on edge. That unexpected climax had done little to relieve months of pent-up need. If anything, it made it worse. Sleep was impossible.

  At four, he finally gave up and called for his carriage. The sooner they reached London, the sooner he could immerse himself in work, driving lust back into hiding. Work had always come first.

  “Just as well we’re leaving early,” said his coachman when Alex went down to check that all was ready. “Odd goings-on tonight.”

  “Odd how?” Masters had been with him for years and had a good nose for trouble.

  “Ostler caught a vagrant poking through the guest carriages an hour ago. Drove him off, but I don’t feel easy ’bout it.”

  “Maybe he sought a dry place to sleep.”

  “Maybe. But I’d bet this year’s wages he was looking for something more than shelter. Had a horse tethered down by the stream, so he’s not destitute.”

  “No vagrant then.” Alex frowned. Former soldiers infested the countryside, turning to theft when they couldn’t find work. But what would one expect to find in an empty carriage? And why risk thievery at the Bear? Everyone knew it kept grooms on duty every night. It was one of the larger coaching inns on the Bath Road.

  Yet he couldn’t believe his old enemies could have found him this quickly. Aside from the unlikelihood of stumbling across his trail two years after he’d left London, none of them knew the name he was using for this journey. Adopting false names was an old habit and another reason he’d demanded that Eden address him by his given name.

  He couldn’t ignore Masters’s instincts, though. If he had attracted notice, slipping away before dawn should evade further interest. And it would let them reach London by mid-afternoon, giving him time to see Peterson today.

  Chapter Six

  Eden raised her brows as Alex’s carriage halted before an elegant London town house. Its red brick glowed in the afternoon sun, set off by handsome quoins on the corners and around the door. An iron balcony extended the width of the façade on the first floor, backed by enormous windows that would flood the drawing room behind with light. The other houses lining the street were equally handsome. As was the street itself. Gas lamps dotted the pavement, promising light at night, too. She’d read about London’s gaslights, but had never seen one.

  But her overwhelming feeling was relief. She could finally escape the carriage. Hours of rubbing against Alex left her barely cogent. And it was entirely her own fault. He’d made no move to touch her and had barely exchanged a dozen comments since leaving the Bear. Yet her mind teemed with images of his hands on her shoulders, her waist, her arms, her thighs, her—

  She dragged her thoughts from the heated mire lest she succumb to temptation.

  She could not explore these feelings. No gentleman would court the sister of his mistress, so for Olivia’s sake, Eden must keep her hands off his silky hair and broad shoulders. And for her own sake, too. John had worked hard to establish her as a lady. Revealing herself as anything less would blacken his memory, let Richard gloat because she’d proved to be unworthy, and undermine her position in the neighborhood she still hoped would be home for the rest of her life – assuming she could somehow pay off the mortgage…

  “Here we are,” Alex announced unnecessarily. “You settle in while I call on Peterson.”

  She wanted to, but now that she faced the moment, it was impossible. While a few hours alone would be heaven, she must participate i
n the interviews. Two sets of eyes and ears would better detect falsehood or secrecy. “I’m coming with you,” she declared. “And it would be best to call first at Mr. Jasper’s house. His papers might contain information we could use, and his secretary will have his current direction so we can write to him.”

  He frowned. “Very well.” He called directions to his coachman, then turned to face her. “What do you know about Mr. Jasper’s secretary?” His voice caressed her like warm velvet.

  She ignored the new heat coiling in her womb, making sure her own voice was prosaic. “His name is Smith, and he’s rude.”

  “Is he blind?” When she stared, he smiled. “Try flirting with him, Eden. Few men can resist a beautiful woman’s charms. A touch, a glance, an impish smile, and they will do anything.”

  “Then they must be simpleminded. Women have no trouble ignoring gentlemen’s charms.”

  “You are stronger than most. Too many will do anything in exchange for a little flattery.”

  “As you know from experience,” she said without thinking, then cursed herself for a fool when his eyes lit with laughter. He must know quite well that she was fighting so hard to control her breathing that she could barely speak. Only focusing on Olivia kept her hands in her lap and curses from her lips. Why the devil had she challenged him? Men thrived on challenge. Even John rose to a challenge like a man half his age. By raising his rakish reputation, she was all but asking him to prove it.

  But Alex confounded her yet again, adopting a matter-of-fact tone and keeping his questions strictly on business for the remainder of their journey.

  Smith answered their rap on Jasper’s door.

  “Come in, come in,” he said once Eden made introductions. “My condolences, Mrs. Marlow. And my apologies for any disrespect I offered at our last meeting. I was so shocked to hear of Mr. Marlow’s accident that my wits fled. Mr. Jasper will also be shocked.”