She had wanted to stay but didn’t want to disappoint her grandmother. She left to take tea when she had been stopped by the Comte de Buffon. She had never met him so she only knew him when he introduced himself.
“We are all animals, my dear. We have needs that must be met. Even you,” he said, then walked away.
Sophie stood looking after him for what seemed like hours before her grandmother called her again. Needs. What needs? Then she had woken up. She stretched lightly and then realized she was not alone. She turned to look and blinked once. Then she widened her eyes as sleep left her.
Sebastian saw her widened eyes and frightened look. Damn! “No, Sophie.”
He knew she was about to scream. It was a natural reaction. He couldn’t allow that. She would bring the whole house down upon them. He did the only thing he could think to do. In a swift movement he was fully on top of her, placing his hand over her mouth.
Sophie felt the crush of his weight on top of her and his hand covering her mouth. Insufferable bastard! She had been asleep, lying in a complete state of bliss, when he had come into her room to do what exactly? And now he dared quiet her?
Sophie shook her head to have him let her go, arching into him unwittingly. He refused to release her. She tried to grab at his forearms but he was much too strong for her.
“Sophie, think! Don’t scream. You’ll bring the whole house here. You’ll be ruined.” His brown eyes met her hazel ones and slowly he removed his hand.
“Did you think about that when you came here for your little seduction?” she hissed quietly. However, she knew he was right. If she screamed, everyone would come running. Her father would be ashamed, and her grandmother? She felt certain her grandmother might faint first and then beat her.
Sebastian smiled and settled onto his forearms. “This isn’t how it looks.” He had a lopsided grin on his face and Sophie had an irresistible urge to smack it off of him.
Sophie rolled her eyes and placed her hands on his forearms to push at him to move when she turned pink. “Oh my God, you’re naked!” She closed her eyes in horror.
Sebastian would have laughed if he didn’t realize that for all her education and intelligence, she was still an innocent, young virgin.
“I sleep unclothed, yes,” he agreed.
“Get off me!” she hissed each word at him.
He didn’t know why he did what he did. Maybe it was the moment in this beautiful country chateau away from everything, or perhaps it was her blatant refusal of not wanting to have anything to do with him, coupled with the fact that she always wanted to believe the worst in him. But suddenly he wanted her so badly. He would never take her virginity. That would be a crime he couldn’t commit. But he wanted to taste her. He wanted to feel her completely against him, almost naked, with the soft, thin chemise revealing more than it concealed.
He saw her moist lips, those hazel eyes and that auburn hair and nothing else mattered. Damn it all.
“Of course. Just one more thing,” he added.
“Yes?” She seemed so irritated and superior, which was humorous as she lay in his arms almost naked.
“Just this.”
He kissed her suddenly as he pressed completely into her. She gasped and felt the weight of him on her and her nails dug into his forearms. She seemed to squeak as he pressed her legs apart and settled between them. That was a huge mistake. All he wanted was to sink into the soft, wet core and it was torture. He had a strong will, but this was too much.
Sophie had never felt anything like this. Even his kisses and touches before had been nothing compared to this. This was something else. This was a seduction. This was heaven. She moved her fingers into his hair and Sebastian was startled.
No, don’t enjoy it, he wanted to tell her. He didn’t want to take her like this. But then, he did want her to enjoy it. He did want her here. Now. Exactly like this. Dewy from sleep, innocent and lovely. Hazel-eyed, intelligent, lovely Sophie.
He pressed his hand against her breast and the thin chemise offered little covering. The nipple hardened and Sophie whimpered. He wanted her so badly. This was madness.
Suddenly she felt a hardness between her legs through the linen chemise and knew it was him. She wasn’t a simpleton and understood nature and life. She had aroused him. She had done that.
“Let me go.” She moved her head away from his, turning to the side. She knew he was too strong to fight. He would have to let her go.
He swallowed hard. He was falling somewhere fast and he didn’t know how to reverse what was happening. “Sophie. Please believe me. This was a mistake—”
“Thank you.” She struggled in his arms, trying to get away from him, knowing it was futile.
“No, not this. Last night, it was late. I—” he whispered, trying to get her to understand.
“Sophie?” A knock came at the door. Sophie recognized Germaine’s voice and threw a look at Sebastian.
“Tell her you’re dressing,” he whispered.
“I’m dressing, Germaine. I’ll be down shortly.” she called out.
“All right. See you downstairs,” came her reply.
Sebastian stared down at her for a moment. If he risked taking her, she would want it now. But she would hate him after. He wouldn’t do that. He regretted so much releasing her and she moved away from him instantly, jumping out of the bed and moving toward the window.
She turned her back on him and he sighed as he pulled on his breeches. “We’ll have to talk about this eventually, you know.”
He admired the straight back and auburn hair falling down it. Her arms were crossed over her chest in a defiant manner.
Sophie remained turned from him. “No, I don’t know that. As you just pointed out, this was a mistake. So we can leave it that.”
He moved toward her, still half naked, turning her to him. “Sophie. You can’t deny what’s happening between us.”
“Of course I cannot. It’s an attraction. That doesn’t mean you give in to it,” she said calmly, though her heart was racing. She wanted him to leave. She wanted him to stay. And she felt he must never know how much she truly wanted him.
“Sophie. It’s not evil. It’s not disgusting,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t say it was. It’s sex. Copulation. Don’t make it out to be something profound,” she countered.
He almost smiled. What did this little virgin know about sex, disgusting or profound? She said the words but she had led a sheltered life, his little, chaste Sophie.
“You hide so easily behind your words and your books.” He drew a line under her chin, tipping it up.
“Those words, those books, change the world,” she threw back at him, her eyes meeting his.
He admired the shape of her face, her eyes and those lips he wanted to taste again and again.
“Yes, they can. And sex can create life, give comfort, solace, pleasure, peace. You know nothing of those things, little innocent,” he said as he moved away from her, dressing and pulling on his hose and shoes.
He looked at her desk as he dressed and saw several sheets of paper all filled in with her fine handwriting. It didn’t look like a letter as it was not addressed or signed. It looked like someone writing down their thoughts or ideas. The inkwell was low and the quill pen was well used. Interesting, he thought.
Sophie watched him quietly and then suddenly she went to him, startling him. “Sebastian, you won’t say anything to anyone about what happened here.”
“No, Sophie. I won’t say anything about what happened,” he told her. “Because, in fact, nothing happened, did it?”
She looked puzzled. So much had happened. How could he make it seem as if it was nothing? Of course, she realized. Because it was nothing to him. She was a conquest. A notch.
When he finally departed she almost sank to her knees. Sweet Jesus! What had just happened? She felt in a daze as she pressed her hand against her mouth and closed her eyes. It was all spinning out of control.
*
**
Sophie dressed quickly and joined her hostess, Germaine, the gentlemen and Sebastian in the dining room for breakfast. She had dressed in the simple gaulle gown with a lemon-colored sash, which made her seem young and fresh.
She heard Madame Necker fussing over Sebastian and cringed. “Did you sleep well? When did you arrive?” she asked him.
“Tolerably well, madame,” he replied.
Sophie had to stop her hand from shaking as she poured her tea into its cup and took it and the saucer to the table. She helped herself to bread and smeared butter onto it and sat down next to Germaine.
Sebastian had watched Sophie enter the room and thought she looked lovely in the gown, though he preferred her in nothing.
“Which room did you choose, Sebastian?” Madame Necker asked. “I am keeping a log so that everyone knows their place. We wouldn’t want any mishaps.” She smiled.
Too bloody late for that, Sebastian thought.
He looked around at the table and knew that everyone had a room, though he had no idea which one. If he chose the wrong room that person would know he had not slept there and so would everyone else.
“Indeed, I slept in the salon on the small couch. I didn’t know which room would be available so I thought it best.” He locked eyes with Sophie, who looked away.
Madame Necker nodded.
The messieurs were deep in conversation as always, and Germaine asked Sophie to accompany her for a stroll through the grounds after breakfast.
“Have you seen the maze shrubbery? It’s bordered by lavender bushes and smells divine at certain times of the year,” Madame Necker remarked to Sophie.
She then turned to Sebastian. “I’ll place you in the brown room.”
“Thank you, madame,” he said, sipping his tea.
He knew where the brown room was located and it was in the same wing as Sophie’s but two down from hers. Too close, he thought absently. No. Too far.
Chapter 11
Germaine was dressed in a gaulle gown as well with a light pink sash which was suitable for the country. Both women had their parasols as they strolled through the large green lawns.
Germaine said little and Sophie was completely engrossed in replaying what had occurred that morning with Sebastian. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything and her mind kept flashing to his body moving over hers, his mouth on hers.
“Do you think he’s handsome, Sophie?”
Sophie was pulled from her thoughts to focus on the young woman beside her. “I’m sorry. Who is handsome?”
“Do you not think Sebastian is handsome?” Germaine pulled a curl through her fingers and looked dreamy.
Sophie would have thought Germaine’s infatuation was quite cute if it weren’t for the fact that the particular man she was asking about had almost taken her virginity that morning.
“I suppose he’s handsome,” Sophie allowed.
“Suppose?” Germaine smiled. “He’s almost beautiful! Those cheeks and lovely brown eyes.” She sighed.
“I think you have a liking for him, Germaine.”
“I do like him,” Germaine admitted quietly.
Sophie was weary of the conversation. She knew that this infatuation of Germaine’s was not real and that Sebastian had not made any advances to her. But she was also surprised by the intense feeling of possessiveness that she felt towards Sebastian and how jealous she felt towards Germaine.
It was a feeling she had never felt before and she didn’t know what to make of it. She felt irritated and didn’t want to take it out on her friend. Germaine was young and besotted. Sebastian was another story indeed.
They walked along the river, much farther than Sophie had walked alone. Germaine knew her way and they passed several elderly men who nodded to them, tipping their caps. It was a beautiful day with a blue sky and no clouds.
“The Duke of Dorset and Comte de Buffon should arrive tonight,” Germaine said as they passed a field of wildflowers.
“Yes. I look forward to meeting the Comte. He’s such a learned man,” Sophie murmured.
“He is much respected.”
“We should bring a picnic basket next time we walk,” Sophie said.
“We should all have a picnic here!” Germaine remarked. “That would be a lovely idea! I’ll ask Mother.”
***
Later that evening as Sophie readied for dinner she dreaded it, even though she knew Sebastian would not sweep aside all the plates and table contents and force her onto the table. Ridiculous.
With all the ladies and gentlemen in attendance everything would be perfectly respectable. But she didn’t like the way she felt when she was with him. She felt she was losing herself and knew she must keep her distance.
Her dress was of a deep garnet-colored silk with a scooped neckline and elbow-length sleeves. She had her hair pinned up and wore ruby drop earrings and a delicate ruby necklace.
She walked over to her desk and looked over the writings she had composed before Sebastian had arrived. Her thoughts had been clear and concise but now she felt muddled. Damn him! She had so enjoyed the country’s peace until he had arrived.
***
Sebastian looked over his desk filled with sheets of paper. He had translated several letters from French to English for His Grace the Duke of Dorset as he preferred certain documents to be translated into English and Sebastian complied.
He knew the Duke was due to arrive this evening and he wanted to have all of the documents ready. The duke might even have additional items for him to translate, which Sebastian would welcome. He wanted to work and have his thoughts set upon a task. Anything rather than sit in this room and brood over the delectable creature two doors down from him.
He had thought about her several times and had admittedly used Juliette while thinking only of the auburn-haired woman. That had been distasteful. He was sure that Juliette was used to men using her, but he didn’t want to be that sort of man. They had an arrangement and it should be straightforward.
Now he found himself thinking of Sophie all the time. She was always in his thoughts and it irked him. He knew that he wanted her. Not possible. He knew she was an innocent so playing games was dangerous. If he was caught, the price would be high and it wasn’t a price he wanted to pay. Not yet.
Marriage. Sebastian had never thought much about it. His parents were happy but his mother was unlike any other woman he had ever seen. His father was a very masculine Arab but he seemed to bend when it came to his English wife.
But Sebastian had never wanted to marry, nor cared about it until now. Now he worked the word over in his mind.
***
Another carriage pulled up to the great chateau after dinner carrying the duke, Etienne Pousson and Sebastian’s sister Leila.
That they all came to be in the same carriage was not so strange. The duke had been invited to the chateau and Etienne had accompanied Sebastian once to the chateau and had an open invitation to return, so he had arranged to take the duke’s carriage to the country.
But Leila was not expected. Sebastian had asked Etienne to look after his sister and he had. But what he didn’t realize was that Leila was either hell bent on ruin or badly wanted her brother’s best friend.
Her maid did indeed act as chaperone and they had attended a play and one concert. She had enjoyed everything and looked upon Paris with a foreigner’s bright eyes. It was delightful to watch her eyes light up as they walked along a Paris street or attended a concert. Leila relished it all.
But she also enjoyed tormenting Etienne. She sent her maid for a glass of refreshment for them and suddenly her hand was sliding up his thigh. When no one was looking, she had bit his ear, pretending to whisper something. She bent over to retrieve a dropped program, making certain Etienne saw her luscious globes barely restrained inside her dress. She adjusted her skirts inside the box and made sure he had a glimpse of her lovely ankles.
He was at his wit’s end. He had decided to run away to the country like
a whipped boy when he heard of the duke and Sebastian’s trip. It would be just the thing. Unfortunately, Leila had also heard of the journey. She had smiled and beguiled the duke, who could never say no to a woman. He had invited her as his guest to the country as well.
The carriage ride had been a ride through hell and heaven. The duke had fallen asleep across from them and she had placed a blanket over her legs.
He knew she had many skirts and petticoats so he wasn’t even sure how she had done it, but she suddenly whispered to him, “Etienne, feel.”
Swiftly she had taken his hand and placed it under the blanket. He didn’t feel skirts or petticoats, just the silk of her stockings and the sweet texture of her upper thigh. Oh my God, he thought.
He looked into those innocent eyes and shuddered. Had they been alone he would have flung her onto her back without giving it a second thought and given her the pounding she deserved.
Sure, Sebastian would call him to a duel and he would probably die. But before that, he would feel the little witch’s legs wrap around his waist and the sweet grip of her walls around him.
“Why are you doing this, Leila? Why?” he finally muttered the question that he wanted most to know.
She looked confused and then smiled. “I like you, Etienne. Very much.”
He tried to remove his hand but she moved it higher on her thigh. He looked over at the duke but he had turned away from them and was snoring lightly. He looked back at Leila. She was gorgeous. Her brown hair was pinned back and her eyes looked so big in the dark. Her mouth was parted slightly and he could tell she was aroused.
He closed his eyes as she guided him higher up her thigh until he felt the curls. He was so hard and wanted nothing more than to empty his seed inside her.
“Leila, I can’t—” he whispered to her.
“You can,” she whispered back.
Merde!
He pressed a finger against the curls and he saw Leila bite her bottom lip.
“I won’t hurt you,” he assured her.
She smiled in the dark. “I know.” She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth just as his finger slipped inside her wet core. She was deliciously wet and slippery and he could feel the ridges inside her.
The Sheik's Son Page 11
