Her aunts would suggest that he would want something in return for the extravagant presents he’d showered upon her. But Meredith didn’t feel that way. He was reading her book. Surely that indicated he was merely interested in her writing, as his mother was.
Still, she did like thinking that he wanted something from her. Now that she had thought it over, she wouldn’t mind having that kiss she’d longed for from him.
She had wanted to kiss him since the first night they danced together.
Meredith shook herself for her outrageous musings and took a sip of bracing tea. She was being a silly little fool.
With a soft sigh, she continued watching the rain, as little droplets trickled down the windowpane. She moved to the sofa and curled up with a blue toile pillow. She truly wished she could stay here all night. Regrettably, she would have to leave before too long and return home to get ready for yet another ball this evening. The Duke of Havenfield was expecting her.
She must have dozed off for a bit, for the next thing she knew, Phillip announced victoriously, “Bravo! Well done, Meredith!”
Instantly awake, she glanced over at him anxiously. “Truly? You’re not just saying that to be kind to me?”
“Of course not!” he said. “It’s excellent, and I look forward to reading more when it’s finished. You’re a writer, Merry. And I’ve no doubt in my mind that you will be a published author. You have a way with words that completely drew me into the story, and I wanted to keep reading. There isn’t much more left to go, is there? Olivia, the heroine, has almost uncovered the truth. Huntley will need a comeuppance, won’t he?”
He liked her book!
To hear him speaking about her writing and referring to her characters as if they were real people caused a thrill of delight to race through her. She smiled with elation. Phillip liked her book!
They shared another cup of tea while they discussed the plot of her novel, and he actually made one or two excellent points that she hadn’t thought of to strengthen the story. It was so gratifying to discuss her writing with someone who cared about it.
“You have to tell me, what happens when Olivia finds out that Huntley and Ian are one and the same person?”
She cried, “I can’t divulge that yet, Phillip! That’s the climactic ending. You’ll just have to wait and read it for yourself.”
“Well, in the meantime, you must put me in your book! I want to be a character in The Edge of Danger, by M.R. Remington. Not a main character, of course, but just a devilishly handsome one on the periphery that only I know is meant to be me.”
“I shall have to think about it,” she said.
“But you must!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “It would mean so much to me.”
She gave him a studied look. He acted like an excited child at the prospect of being a character in her novel. There was nothing pompous about him then. That something so small could thrill him touched her heart. What he didn’t know was that she already had a character in mind for him.
“Again, you’ll have to read it when it’s finished to find out,” was all she would say.
“And M.R. Remington . . . what does the R stand for? Rebecca?”
“Rose.”
“Meredith Rose Remington,” he sounded out. “It’s very pretty. I like your name. It suits you perfectly.”
“I like yours, too, Phillip Sinclair, Earl of Waverly.”
They grinned happily at each other.
“Well, I believe that I’ve distracted you for too long.”
He rose from the sofa where they’d sat talking together.
“I should let you get back to writing, but I’m only doing so for completely selfish reasons. I want you to hurry and finish the book so I can read it and find out what happens. But I really should take my leave now.”
Meredith stood also, a sudden rush of panic overcoming her at the thought of him leaving.
“Don’t go yet.”
They stared at each other, not moving, while her words echoed around them.
Phillip’s green eyes flickered. The air between them became heated. Meredith could barely breathe.
What had possessed her to utter those words out loud? All she knew was this had been the most wonderful afternoon she had ever spent with anyone, and she didn’t want him to leave.
“Have some of that cake and wine with me first,” she said in a rush, finally breaking the tense silence between them.
He nodded, breaking into a smile. “That sounds like a grand idea.”
They both moved toward the kitchen at the same time, accidentally bumping into each other. She stumbled, and he caught her up in his strong arms, pulling her close against his broad chest.
For a split second neither of them dared to move, or dared to breathe. They simply stood there on the precipice and just gazed into each other’s eyes. There was no need to question. No need to ask. They both knew what they wanted, what they craved. Words were not necessary.
He kissed her then, his warm mouth sliding over hers in an effortless motion, binding her to him.
And she fell . . . willingly, dizzyingly off that precipice and down, down into a wonderful wellspring of emotions and feelings that cascaded over her, leaving all her senses filled with nothing but him.
Meredith was lost. So utterly lost in his embrace. In his arms. In his kiss. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.
His lips, which had fascinated her from the start, were much softer than she expected. And they moved over her mouth with such tenderness. Yet, he was passionate as well. The air between them grew hotter, and she felt as if she were suddenly melting into him.
And she didn’t mind that at all.
When the kiss intensified and his tongue entered her mouth, her knees gave way, but he held her up. She was completely supported in his arms. He would not let her fall. The sensation was heavenly. Slowly she found her own arms reaching up and clasping around his neck, drawing him ever closer.
And even more daring, she allowed her tongue to enter his mouth, intertwining with his.
Her fingers dared to splay through the soft dark hair at the back of his neck. He smelled so good. Clean and warm. The crisp scent of sandalwood and soap enveloped her. This wonderfully handsome man, who had called her beautiful and loved her writing, was kissing her, and she was kissing him back. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.
The kiss was absolutely sublime. Her first kiss! Oh, what she had been missing! Nothing she had ever done compared with this. It was better than she could have even dreamed, even with her writer’s imagination.
She wanted more of it, more of him. Pressing her body against him, she felt his strong arms around her draw her even closer. She felt so safe with him. She could lose herself in this kiss and never be found.
Barely able to breathe, she was all consumed with his kiss. It was intimate. It was passionate. It was heavenly. It was just the two of them, locked in this incredibly wondrous connection, and nothing else in the world mattered.
It felt as if she was meant for this. Meant for him. Meant to be with him. It seemed that her entire life and everything that had happened to her had been leading up to be with Phillip Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly, right at that moment.
Losing her mother. Losing her father. Being left with no money. Sailing to England with her aunt. Walking into Hamilton’s Book Shoppe. Each event in her life brought her to being right there in Phillip’s arms and being kissed by him.
It was exactly where she belonged.
Suddenly, he pulled away.
Breathing heavily, they both stared at each other in amazement.
13
Words to Live By
Phillip froze, trying to catch his breath.
He hadn’t expected to be so drawn in by her. He’d never intended to kiss her like that. Hell, he’d been on his way out the door when the beautiful girl in front of him had asked him to stay.
He had wanted to stay as well, although he couldn’t think as to why.
/> An innocent girl like this was not his type. This was not the usual way he spent his afternoons. He was generally sleeping off the indulgences of the night before, or playing cards, or out riding, or at the club with his friends. At least that was what he had been doing lately. He tried to remember what he used to do before he’d started carousing.
Yet his mind drew a blank.
For some reason he’d woken up early that morning, filled with an energy he hadn’t felt in quite some time. He couldn’t stop thinking about Meredith Remington once he’d learned that she’d become his mother’s protégé and was using his mother’s old home above Hamilton’s Book Shoppe as a writing retreat of sorts.
Suddenly filled with a desire to assist her as well, he’d gone to the stationers, had the leather-bound journal imprinted with her name, and purchased the set of fountain pens. Then he realized that a writer would need something to eat, so he brought refreshments, too, as he trudged through the rain to the bookshop to see her. The bouquet of lilacs had been an unexpected last-minute impulse.
Every girl deserved to have pretty flowers. Getting her favorite flower happened to be a stroke of good luck on his part.
Doing something special for her made him inexplicably happy.
She had been thrilled to see him. It was evident on her beautiful face when he entered the room. He had only planned to deliver the gifts and then leave her to her writing. He hadn’t intended to stay as long as he had. But then he read her work, and they’d had such a wonderful time talking together. He discovered that she was even brighter and wittier than he’d imagined, and she made him laugh.
After reading her manuscript, he felt as if he had gotten to know her more intimately. He had gotten inside of her mind by reading what she’d written. And it fascinated him.
It was that simple.
This lovely creature, who had entered his life so unexpectedly, fascinated him. And she had from the moment he set eyes on her in the bookshop a few weeks ago.
Phillip knew he had over-stayed his welcome that afternoon, but he’d been surprised by her request to stay. There was no crime in staying a little longer. Yet, he had wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her thoroughly.
And so he did. He simply couldn’t help himself. Those luscious lips of hers beckoned to be kissed. Just one little kiss. That was all he wanted.
But one kiss turned out to be not nearly enough.
Kissing Meredith Rose Remington did not disappoint, and it was all he could do to not to take her then and there. She’d felt so perfect in his arms. She was a tiny thing, and he felt oddly protective of her.
All afternoon he had been with her and been tempted by her.
Her soft voice. Her enchanting laughter. Her lustrous chestnut hair, spilling loose from its pins; he had wanted to run his fingers through it. She looked so appealing and inviting, with her simple gray gown and stocking-clad feet. Her beautiful blue eyes, fringed by thick, dark lashes, had looked at him with such longing. From the pert little nose on her pretty face to the endearing smudge of ink on her sweet chin, he found her irresistible.
But he knew better. He knew then that he should leave immediately. He’d been a great fool to become this involved with her. He should not have kissed her in the first place. This was not a girl to trifle with.
He finally found the strength he needed and ended their passionate kiss.
Breathing heavily, she looked up at him with a dazed expression, her blue eyes filled with confusion. Her pouty lips were fresh from kissing him. God, how he wanted to lower his head and kiss them again! He wanted to lead her into one of the bedrooms and make love to her all night long.
Yet he knew it was wrong and would only end in heartache for her.
“Merry, Merry,” he whispered close to her ear. “This shouldn’t have happened. I’m so very sorry. Please forgive me for taking such liberties with you. I’ve no excuse for behaving like a cad.”
He took a fortifying breath, before adding, “I should leave now, before we do something else we shall both come to regret.”
She nodded in agreement, but remained silent, her eyes fixed on him. He wished he knew what she was thinking, but then again, he was quite relieved that he did not know. An increasing sense of urgency in his chest nagged at him to leave as soon as possible.
He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her one last time. She smelled like a mixture of vanilla and ink, which he found oddly intoxicating.
“I’m sorry I interrupted your writing today, but I had a wonderful time with you. And I love your book. I truly do. Thank you for allowing me to read it. I was honored.”
“Thank you,” she murmured in a soft voice. “Thank you for the lovely gifts and for reading my manuscript. I appreciate it.”
He gave her his most winning smile. “And I still expect you to make me a character. A very handsome one, remember.”
She managed a smile then.
“Are you attending Lady Abbott’s ball this evening?” He felt the need to say something more, after all he’d just kissed the girl senseless. He needed to make things feel normal between them. He needed to make it feel like this kiss had never happened.
She nodded her head again.
“My parents are attending as well. It’s one of the grandest affairs of the Season. I shall see you there?” he questioned.
Panic was beginning to overtake him. He needed to extricate himself from this awkward little situation as soon as possible.
“I’m attending with the Duke of Havenfield.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t share a dance together.”
He threw the offer out lightly, just for something to say.
But her words reminded him yet again of why she was in London in the first place. She was a young and beautiful oil heiress looking to find a husband. It seemed as if the Duke of Havenfield was the leading contender for that position. Phillip would leave her to the duke, for he was not ready to marry yet.
Still, he could not picture her married to the older man, in spite of his being a decent fellow. They just didn’t seem to suit. Meredith needed to be with someone younger and more supportive, who would cherish her and nurture her gifts and encourage her talents.
He seriously doubted the Duke of Havenfield would allow his new wife and duchess to write mystery novels.
It seemed like a terrible loss for Meredith, and he wondered if she even realized yet what she would have to sacrifice to be the Duchess of Havenfield.
An unfamiliar tightness crept across his chest. He needed to get out of there.
With a last farewell, Phillip hurriedly gathered up his cape, hat, and umbrella, and took his leave, breathing a heavy sigh of relief as he exited.
Out on the street, the rain continued to come down, washing over him in a welcomed release and rinsing away the remains of the delicious reverie he’d been in all afternoon with Meredith Rose Remington.
He walked with purpose down the busy thoroughfare, filled with a sense of urgency to do something. Yet he knew not what. He simply needed to be moving forward. So he continued walking through the rain-drenched streets.
Before long, he found himself outside a very familiar townhouse.
With a heavy and reluctant sigh, he climbed the steps and rang the bell. The butler took Phillip’s dripping cape and hat and ushered him into the small salon to wait. The room was ornately decorated in shades of purple and gold. Katherine had dreadful taste.
Phillip went to the side bar and poured himself a glass of whisky and downed it in one shot. Then he paced back and forth before the window, waiting. His mind continued to spin.
What had just happened? What had he been thinking? He shouldn’t have kissed Meredith. He shouldn’t have touched her. Yet he’d been helpless not to. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d longed to kiss those lips of hers ever since he’d first laid eyes on her.
But still . . . he’d just made a terrible, terribl
e mistake.
He was still pacing, lost in his thoughts, when the door opened.
“What an unforeseen pleasure, my darling!”
Lady Katherine Vickers entered the salon, wearing nothing but a long, scarlet, satin dressing gown. The silky material clung to her lush curves, accentuating her voluptuous body. Her long blond hair was loose and hanging down her back in a simple manner. Devoid of her typical methods of female artifice, she looked more appealing than usual.
He rarely saw her this way, without her rouge and her hair done up. She looked prettier, although she would never believe him if he told her that.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later this evening at Lady Abbott’s,” she continued. “I’ve a wonderful gown of golden silk to wear tonight, since it’s a special night for us. You naughty boy, you just couldn’t wait to see me though, could you? You caught me just as I have finished my bath . . .”
With a few long strides, he was near enough to pull her into his arms. She moved to him willingly, and, without uttering a single word, Phillip began kissing her roughly. His mouth moved over hers greedily, demandingly. She moaned with pleasure and clung to him. She was warm and eager, but he wanted something more from her.
He wanted to drown in her, to lose himself in her. He wanted to forget everything that had just happened that afternoon. He wanted Katherine to make him forget what he had just done with Meredith Remington.
He had to forget her. He had to get her out of his mind. And somehow, he had to keep her from getting into his heart.
Yet, he kept comparing the two of them. Katherine was taller and fuller, with the heavy scent of roses clinging to her. Meredith was smaller, more petite, yet fit perfectly within his embrace. He longed to be with Meredith in a way he had never felt before.
Somehow, Katherine’s allure seemed tarnished, and her glamorous sophistication suddenly seemed to be a drawback. The way she touched him now felt very rehearsed and tired, whereas Meredith had kissed him without artifice or guile of any kind. She had looked at him with honesty in her eyes, and she had wanted him to kiss her. It was her unabashed desire for him that drove him a bit wild.
The Unexpected Heiress Page 13
