Scandalous Deception

by Rosemary Rogers

  Placing her hand on the stone wall, she struggled upward, concentrating on each step. By the time she reached the third floor, her breath was rasping loudly in the silence and her back was aching from the unaccustomed strain of carrying her heavy bags. She paused long enough to fumble with the door, her heart lodging in her throat as the hinges squeaked in protest.

  To her fevered imagination, the sound seemed to carry throughout London.

  Had she alerted the entire house to her presence?

  With Janet pressed nervously against her back, Brianna forced herself to count to ten. When there was no rush of servants, no cries of alarm, she allowed herself to suck in a deep breath of relief and step from the stairwell.

  The wide corridor was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight from the nearby candelabra, revealing the vaulted ceiling and fine plasterwork that had been painted a pale ivory. The Persian carpet shimmered with vivid reds and blues and gold, reflected in the framed pier mirrors that lined the walls.

  She was attempting to recall which of the numerous doors led to the guest chambers when a hulking shadow detached itself from the wall to reveal a large man with a hawkish face and fierce pair of blue eyes. Brianna froze in shock. Although the man was attired in the Huntley livery, she did not believe for a moment that he was any simple servant. He looked like a soldier.

  Or an assassin.

  “What is this?” he growled, his thick accent unmistakably Russian. “What do you think to do?”

  This had to be the oaf that Janet had confronted earlier, and with that accent most certainly one of Edmond’s men.

  Damnation. There was nothing to do but brave it out.

  “Allow me to introduce myself.” Once again dropping the bags, Brianna performed an elegant curtsey. “I am Miss Quinn, the Duke of Huntley’s ward. I will be staying here for a few days, as will my maid.”

  Brows that matched the man’s thick golden hair drew together in wary disbelief. “I have been told nothing of a ward. You will leave now.”

  Brianna tilted her chin to a haughty angle. She may not have royal blood running through her veins, but her father was first cousin to an Earl and she could feign a conceited self-worth when necessary. And sometimes even when it was not necessary.

  “I most certainly will not be leaving. This is my home now.”

  “You will leave, or I will toss you out.”

  “You would dare to lay a hand on the Duke’s legal ward?” she said, her voice pure ice.

  “I was told to keep everyone out.” The man began to walk toward her. “That is what I will do.”

  Brianna was quite convinced that the man intended to toss her out. Even if it meant hauling her to the curb screaming and kicking. It was clearly time to reveal her one and only weapon.

  “Before you take another step, I must warn you that I have given a note to a friend with instructions that, unless she hears from me first thing in the morning, it is to be posted to the London Times,” she said, her voice echoing through the wide corridor with as much courage as she could muster.

  At least the menacing servant came to a halt, his pale eyes glittering with the wariness of a seasoned warrior. He clearly sensed that she was not bluffing.

  “What do I care of this note?”

  She felt Janet move to stand at her side, as if the maid was preparing to protect her from the man—a brave, if rather foolish, display of loyalty.

  “The note will inform all of London that it is not the Duke of Huntley who is staying in this town house, but rather his younger twin, Lord Edmond,” she said, a smile curving her lips as the man gave a revealing jerk of surprise. “I doubt your master would appreciate such information becoming the source of tomorrow morning’s fodder.”

  “How did you…”

  Not about to lose the brief advantage she held, Brianna grabbed her valises and headed for the nearest bedchamber.

  “Come along, Janet. We will have to wait until morning to speak with Edmond.”

  Stepping into the shadowed room, Brianna firmly shut the door in the face of the servant, dropped her bags and fumbled to turn the heavy key in the lock.

  “Ye are going to get us strangled in our sleep,” Janet muttered in the dark.

  “Nonsense.” Holding out a hand to keep from banging into the furniture, Brianna searched for the mantle where there would surely be a flint to light the candles. “Edmond might be a coldhearted cad, but Stefan would never forgive him if he murdered me.”

  Janet heaved a deep sigh. “I would sleep a mite easier if you dinna sound as if ye were trying to convince yerself and not me.”

  EDMOND LEANED AGAINST the doorjamb and silently studied the female curled in the middle of the vast, canopied bed.

  His breath caught at the sight of the morning sunlight shimmering in the lush hair spread across the pillows and warming the delicate ivory features. He’d expected the vision he had carried in his head from the previous night to be tarnished in the harsh light of day. No woman could possibly be as exquisite as he had imagined.

  But he was mistaken.

  Christ, she was even lovelier.

  He battled against the primal urge to pluck her tiny body from beneath the covers and carry her to his bed where she belonged. What the devil was the matter with him? Brianna Quinn might be a beauty, but he was not about to forgive her blatant intrusion into his home.

  When he had returned home last eve after futile hours of trying to locate Howard Summerville, he had been stunned to discover from Boris that two females had locked themselves in one of the guest chambers and that one of them had threatened to send a note to the London Times naming him as Edmond.

  His first thought had been to break down the door and toss Brianna into the nearest gutter. The devilish chit was a distraction he did not need. Unfortunately, while he did not believe her bluff for a moment, he could not be entirely certain that she would not scream bloody murder and waken all of London if he dared to haul her from the house.

  Brianna Quinn had been clever enough to outwit him for the moment, but that did not mean she held all the cards.

  He had every intention of ensuring she paid, and paid dearly, for daring to cross him.

  Straightening from the jamb, Edmond stepped into the room decorated in a delicate French style with amber wall panels and Savonneirie tapestries framed above the carved chimneypiece. The furniture was made of lemonwood and covered with pretty English chintz that his grandmother had considered de rigueur for a London town house.

  Closing the door and turning the key he had retrieved from his housekeeper, Edmond approached the bed. Barefoot and wearing nothing more than a dressing robe, he made no sound as he crossed the Persian carpet.

  He paused just a moment to savor the delicate lines of her face. The straight line of her nose, the lush curve of her lips, the thick fan of lashes that lay against the pale ivory skin.

  A sleeping Aphrodite.

  His hand reached out of his own accord to stroke the sleep-flushed cheek, only to pull back as if he were burned. He was here to rid himself of the pestilent woman, not entangle himself even deeper into her fascinating web.

  With a sharp motion, he reached to grasp the quilt and jerked it aside to reveal her tiny form covered only by a thin chemise.

  Brianna’s eyes flew open as she squeaked in alarm, an alarm that only deepened as her wide gaze caught sight of Edmond hovering over her.

  “Edmond.”

  He curved his lips in a cold smile. “Well, well, I see that Boris was not mistaken. My home was infested by little mice during the night.”

  She reached down to tug at the cover, muttering in frustration when he refused to release his hold.

  “For God’s sake, are you trying to give me heart failure?”

  “Heart failure is the least of your worries,” he drawled, not bothering to resist temptation as he slid into the silken sheets behind her reclined form and gathered her trembling body to spoon intimately against his. “I did warn you what wo
uld happen if you stayed beneath my roof.”

  She stiffened in shock as his hands touched her, exploring the slender curves with the confident assurance of a well-seasoned seducer.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  His head lowered to stroke his lips over the bare skin of her shoulder, brushing aside the narrow ribbon holding up her chemise to taste of her lavender-scented skin.

  “Claiming my reward,” he murmured, nipping the curve of her neck before soothing it with his lips.

  “Stop this. Edmond…” She caught her breath as his hands found the proud curve of her breasts, strumming his thumbs over the sensitive tips. “Dear lord.”

  “Do you like that, ma souris?” he whispered next to her ear, allowing his tongue to trace the delicate shell.

  “No, you cannot,” she groaned, her hands lifting to cover his own, although they made no effort to halt the soft caresses.

  “Perhaps you prefer this.” He teased the tender nipples until they hardened to tight little buds, his cock growing thick with need as she moaned in pleasure. “Yes, sing that sweet song for me.”

  Kissing a path down the curve of her neck, Edmond breathed deeply of her intoxicating scent, one hand slipping down to press flat against her stomach, urging her backside more firmly against his aching erection.

  He had started this to frighten the minx into fleeing his home, to prove to her that he would not be cajoled or threatened or manipulated into taking her in. His purpose in joining her on the bed, however, was swiftly being forgotten beneath the searing flood of hunger that pulsed through his body.

  He would be driven mad if he did not have her soon.

  Still caressing her breast with one hand, Edmond allowed the other to slip over her stomach and down to the delectable heat between her legs. He hissed in pleasure as he felt the dampness through the thin material of her chemise.

  She wanted him. Her body could not lie.

  Debating whether to simply lift her leg over his hip and enter her from behind or to lay her on her back so he could watch her face as she received him into her body, Edmond was caught off guard as she suddenly began to struggle against his hold.

  “No.” Squirming with determination, she managed to turn to face him, although he refused to allow her to break free. The green eyes smoldered with a combination of anger and terrified desire. “Damn you, Edmond. All I ask for is your protection until Stefan can become my legal guardian. Is that too great a burden to you?”

  He growled in frustration. “You have no notion whatsoever.”

  “I promise not to be any bother. You will not even know I am here…”

  “Mon dieu,” he rasped. “You cannot be that innocent.”

  Her brows drew together in annoyance. “What do you mean?”

  “This.”

  Without a shred of modesty, Edmond grasped her hand and tugged it beneath his dressing robe. Brianna made a sound of shock as he wrapped her fingers around the hard thrust of his erection.

  “Dear God,” she breathed, her gaze trapped by the searing heat in his eyes.

  “This is what you do to me simply by being near,” he growled. “If you remain here, I will have you.”

  “You do not even like me,” she protested, her voice oddly breathless.

  His hand remained wrapped around hers, but it was Brianna who began to stroke slowly downward, as if curious in spite of herself at the feel of his throbbing erection. She reached his heavy sack before she moved back to the tip, her thumb brushing the bead of moisture that had gathered. Edmond moaned at the exquisite sensations that exploded through his body. He had nothing more than her fingers on him, but she offered more pleasure than any number of women who had devoted hours to bringing him to climax.

  “You are a desirable woman and I am a man who possesses a fine appreciation for such beauty,” he managed to mutter, his voice raw as the pressure began to build with a stunning swiftness. “Christ…yes. That feels so good.” He shifted, then scattered kisses over her startled face. “Squeeze harder.”

  She shivered beneath his soft kisses, her breath rasping loudly in the air.

  “Edmond, I do not think…”

  “Precisely.”

  “What?”

  “Do not think.”

  Smothering her lips in a demanding kiss, Edmond closed his eyes and allowed himself to savor the bliss of her slender fingers tightening around his cock as his hips pumped forward. He had known the moment he had gazed into those magnificent green eyes that it would be like this. A searing, mind-shattering desire that stripped a man of his thin veneer of civilization.

  The next time he experienced this, he intended to be buried deep inside her as she screamed her own release.

  Edmond plunged his tongue into the wet heat of her mouth as his hands toyed with her straining breasts, tasting her heady sweetness as his muscles clenched with a sharp, sudden pinnacle of delight.

  “Brianna.”

  With a wrenching groan, he turned onto his stomach to release his seed into the sheets.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  BRIANNA WAS AN INNOCENT, well-reared maiden who had been taught that any intimacy should be conducted only between a husband and wife, and she knew that she should be shocked and horrified with what had just occurred.

  But she could not deny a dark fascination as she watched Edmond’s beautiful features twist with what appeared to be intense pleasure, a pleasure that she’d briefly tasted as his hands and lips had explored her body.

  For a wild moment, she had wanted to allow his experienced caresses to continue, to discover precisely where the tingling sensations would carry her. It was only fear, and a stubborn refusal to concede so easily to this aggravating man, that had brought her to her senses.

  Now, she could not deny a sense of frustration, as if her body were determined to punish her for denying it the satisfaction Edmond seemed to offer.

  Dear heavens, what was the matter with her?

  She had spent months fending off Thomas’s repulsive touches, even those of her few suitors who attempted more than a chaste kiss. The mere thought of having their hands on her breasts had been enough to make her physically ill.

  But with Edmond…it was not revulsion that she felt.

  Far from it.

  With a low, husky laugh, Edmond rolled to face her, his dark hair charmingly tousled and his face sinfully handsome in the morning light.

  “Now, that is a perfect means to beginning a day, ma souris,” he murmured, his hand lifting to lazily play with an auburn curl that lay against her cheek. “Of course, I should have preferred to be snugly tucked between your thighs. Next time, I will be deep inside you when I find my release.”

  Lightning streaked through her body at his casual words, the image of Edmond poised above her as he tutored her in the pleasures of passion all too vivid.

  “There will be no next time.”

  He gave her curl a sharp tug. “Then you intend to leave?”

  Something that might have been pain briefly clenched her heart. Ridiculous, of course. The man had no doubt enjoyed the delights of hundreds of women, far more fully than with her. Why would a few meaningless moments alter his desire to be rid of her?

  “You’ve…had your pleasure, surely that has earned me a few days?” she retorted, sharply.

  Without warning, Brianna discovered herself flat on her back with Edmond’s heavy body pinning her to the mattress. She swallowed a groan as he grasped her hands and tugged them over her head, his mouth skimming down the length of her neck in a path of searing fire.

  “So long as you are near, I will want you. And if you do not flee, I will be your lover,” he muttered, exploring the line of her gaping neckline. “Mon dieu. Perhaps it is already too late for flight.”

  “Edmond…” The words became choked in her throat as his mouth found the tip of her breast through her chemise. “Oh.”

  Brianna closed her eyes as her entire body jerked in response. Was this heaven? She had
never dreamed such exquisite sensations existed. It was enough to steal the wits of even the most intelligent woman.

  His tongue circled her sensitive nipple, drawing low moans from deep in her throat. At the same time, his leg was pressing between hers to part them wide enough for him to settle his hips between her thighs.

  Brianna gasped as her chemise was bunched around her hips and the feel of his hair-roughened legs brushed against her. Then, he settled even deeper and the hard thrust of his arousal pressed at the sensitive flesh between her legs.

  Oh, this was…wicked. And wondrous. And so amazingly dangerous.

  Edmond sucked in a sharp breath, as if he were as shocked by the violent jolt of pleasure as she.

  “Damn you,” he breathed, his eyes a stormy blue that spoke of his tumultuous emotions.

  Uncertain why he was angered, Brianna parted her lips to demand an explanation only to have the words halted as a sharp rap on the door made them both freeze in shock.

  “Sir,” a muffled voice echoed through the door.

  “Go away, Boris,” Edmond snarled, his fierce gaze never wavering from her wide eyes.

  “We have an intruder,” the servant retorted.

  “Get rid of them,” Edmond commanded, his tone promising severe retribution for the interruption.

  “It is Miss Quinn’s stepfather,” Boris insisted. “He has threatened to call for the constable if he is not allowed to see his daughter.”

  “Dear lord,” Brianna breathed, stark fear clenching her heart. “How has he found me so swiftly? How has he found me at all?”

  Muttering what she assumed were foul Russian curses, Edmond lifted himself from the bed and roughly tied the belt of his robe.

  “Get dressed.”

  “No. I will not go back to him.” Scrambling off the bed, Brianna pressed herself against the wall, shaking her head in horror. “I will throw myself out the window, I swear it.”

  “It is too early for such theatrics, ma souris,” he drawled, all hint of passion replaced with a shimmering fury. “Get dressed and come downstairs.”