Samantha Holt - Sinful Temptations (Cynfell Brothers Book 6)

by Unknown

  Sinful Temptations

  Samantha Holt

  Copyright 2016 ©Samantha Holt

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by www.lovelustandlipstickstains.com

  Edited by Jen Bradlee

  Proofed by Destini Reece

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  “You really were so very heroic.”

  Harris smiled as genially as one could over clenched teeth. What would Miss Arkwright say if he told her that the wound he’d received whilst trying to protect his new sister had been received in a fairly unheroic manner. More a case of wrong place, wrong time. The shot had apparently been intended for his identical twin brother.

  Of course, it wasn’t that he didn’t like being seen as a hero. If he’d been at all fearful that an unsightly scar and a temporary walking stick would put off the ladies, he’d been terribly wrong. After the newspapers had reported on the killer who had been after his brother and his new wife, he’d garnered more attention than he’d received in his lifetime. And that was saying something. He’d hardly been unpopular with women before.

  “It was nothing really,” he said, glancing around the ballroom.

  The autumn gala had once been one of his favourite events. There was something about the end of the summer nearing that drove women into a frenzy. Some sort of idea that they must seize all opportunities. And very often, some of those glamorous widows and independent women liked to seize him. However, his heroic deed had also enticed several innocent young women who now saw him as more than a rake.

  He was now potential husband material.

  Harris suppressed a shudder. Yes, his brothers had excellent marriages, but they were the exception. His parents’ own frosty marriage had been enough to put a man off marriage permanently. He lifted his head to spot his brother and his wife. Ash, his twin, had been terrible at attending events like this, usually preferring to spend his time in bed. It seemed Lila was quite the influence on his brother as he didn’t think he’d ever seen him attend so many events.

  He could not blame Ash. The little blonde minx had his brother head over heels for her the moment he'd set eyes on her. There were few women as stunning as Lila.

  Lila waved her fan his way when she caught him looking and gave a wide grin as she glanced at the hordes of women surrounding him.

  The hordes...damnation. He turned his attention back to the young women crowding around him. He resisted the desire to tug at his necktie.

  The ballroom was certainly stifling, as these things often were. With the heavy, glittering chandeliers giving off a harsh glow and the dance floor crowded with people, the air quickly became thick. However, he was fairly certain the women slowly moving in on him and forcing him back toward the wall had more to do with the tightness in his throat.

  He looked into the eager gazes of each woman—none of them older than nineteen—and felt a little like prey before the pack of wolves strike.

  He had to escape.

  “Do excuse me, ladies. I see someone I must speak with, and I’m sure there are many gentlemen about ready to do me another injury for stealing all your time.” He eased past them all, ignoring the sounds of protest. He dipped his head toward them. “Good evening.”

  It was not as though he could dash—not with his leg injury—but he made a fine attempt at making his way around the edge of the dance floor toward the bevelled glass doors that released a mere puff of fresh air into the cloying atmosphere. Women’s laughs trilled in his ears, lower-pitched mumbles occasionally punctuated them. Cigar smoke and too much perfume added to the heavy atmosphere.

  All in all, Harris hated it. And he never hated social events. Up until some lunatic tried to kill his brother and himself, he’d welcomed gatherings such as this one. But this leg wound had slowed him down and made him feel practically ancient.

  Now, it was not as though one could not fully service a woman with such a wound—the doctor had said he might suffer discomfort but it would do him no harm to be sexually active, after all.

  However, something about the whole experience had knocked him off kilter.

  Harris pushed through the heave of bodies near the door, offering a hasty apology as he nearly tumbled face first into one woman’s bountiful cleavage when his walking stick caught on another gentleman’s leg.

  He stilled. Lifting his gaze up over that generous bosom, he let slip a tilted smile. Whatever she was doing here, he didn’t know, but he would not complain.

  “Anna.”

  “Lord Harris,” she said coolly.

  Of course, that was Anna all over. Cold, composed. Never mind that he’d nearly burrowed his face in her cleavage…cleavage that he was struggling to draw his gaze from. She was entirely unflustered.

  “Forgive me, I was just going for some air and this thing does not add much to my grace.” He lifted his walking stick.

  “As was I.”

  “After you.” He motioned for her to head out of the ballroom through the patio doors and followed when she moved to one side to peer up at the star-speckled sky.

  He hadn’t seen Anna for several months, not since he’d been shot when staying in her den of sin. Many might think he deserved to be shot after visiting such a scandalous place but unusually it had been his brother’s idea. A fine place to hide from a killer, apparently.

  Unfortunately for them all, it hadn’t been. However, he’d spent quite some time being nursed back to health by Anna Dubois, the elegant and beautiful owner of the establishment.

  And she was still as beautiful as ever, if not more. Without the fog of pain or fatigue, he could quite admire her. Resplendent in purple silk, the ruffles and gold embroidery emphasised pale shoulders and a slender waist. Anna was tall for a woman, something he’d never been particularly able to appreciate as he’d spent the majority of his time with her in bed or sitting down.

  He could certainly appreciate it now, though.

  “I did not expect to see you here tonight.”

  She slanted a glance his way, her lips curved a tad. “Whereas I expected to see you.”

  “Am I so very predictable?”

  He moved closer while she drew her fan off her wrist and waved it in front of her face. A tiny sheen of perspiration dotted her top lip. That deep, gut-punching need to sweep his tongue over said lips and taste the saltiness of her skin near crippled him.

  Well, crippled him further.

  Harris leaned heavily on his stick and urged his surely charming smile to remain in place.

  “Truthfully?” Anna faced him, eyes glinting in the moonlight.

  A half-moon greeted them, but it was bright and glowed with all its might. It meant there were few shadows to
hide her beauty. Harris had seen beautiful women. Bedded them. Been around them for most of his life. Yet, none had quite the impact Anna had on him.

  Perhaps because she was entirely insistent on ignoring whatever the bloody hell this was between them. Even now, she behaved as though they were simply two strangers holding polite conversation. Yet there had been days when she’d touched his skin and held his hand when pain had wracked him. For those brief moments, he’d seen Anna, he was certain of it. For those brief moments, she’d been exposed to him. And he’d liked what he’d seen.

  He drew in a long breath of perfume-free air. Then deemed himself a liar because there was a scent in the air, except it was not heavy and cloying but delicate and all-too appealing.

  It came from her.

  “If I did not wish to hear the truth, would you try to coerce me with sweet words?”

  “Lord Harris, I have no need to coerce men. If a man has no wish to hear the truth, he will simply hear what he wishes, regardless of what a woman might say.”

  “Oh dear, Anna, you do sound so very cynical.”

  “When one lives in a world like mine, how can one not be?”

  “One could say the same of my world.”

  “What do you have to be cynical of?”

  Curiosity lit her eyes. It was the first time he’d truly noticed that shield of ice drop. God, how he wanted it to melt or crack and shatter completely. To get to know this woman inside out. She was an itch under his skin, and he needed to scratch it urgently.

  Then perhaps he wouldn’t be so damned melancholy. The unconquested conquest that was Anna Dubois was driving him a little insane he was convinced of it.

  “I am invited here—as I am every year—because I am an eligible bachelor. My worth is defined by my brother’s title and my unmarried status.” He lifted a brow. “How could one not be cynical?”

  She released an undisguised snort—a sound he might have expected from a woman like Anna, yet in such a setting it took him by surprise.

  “Better that than being defined by a man’s behaviour toward one.” She nodded her head toward the various couples making their way between the tall trees. “Many a lady shall be ruined tonight, yet the gentleman shall find himself completely unscathed.” She turned a mild smile his way, one that was certainly not real and far too polite. “Anyway, my lord, how is your leg?”

  He lifted his cane. “Getting there. Still walking around like damned cripple unfortunately and it has left an ugly scar, but it could have been worse.”

  Her lips tilted a little. “I imagine it’s not all bad. The weaker sex do so love tales of bravery and a scar or two.”

  “Come now, the weaker sex?”

  He wouldn’t deny the attention he had received. It had been pleasant but…strangely unfulfilling.

  A dark, slender eyebrow arched. “You will not have me believing you think any different than the majority of the male population.”

  “That women are weaker? Physically perhaps, but I have long considered women much stronger of mind. And, besides, one look from a woman like yourself and you have us all on our knees, begging for your attention.”

  “I cannot imagine anyone has ever brought you to your knees, Lord Harris.”

  He laughed. “Would you like to try?”

  Her lips parted, eyes widened.

  “Have I shocked you?” he asked with a grin.

  “You insist on forgetting how I earn my living, my lord. Nothing can shock me.”

  “Well, I must try harder then.”

  Someone pushed past him, catching his walking stick and forcing them closer to the edge of the building. The patio was slightly inset into the building so that they ended up tucked into a corner. Shadows played over Anna’s face but enough moonlight caressed her lips and lingered in her eyes for him to be almost entranced. Foolish thoughts, he knew, but Anna did have an astonishing ability to meddle with his mind.

  He saw her throat work and had to prevent a smug smile. She would be feeling the same, he was convinced of it. Though the night air offered a pleasant breeze and there wasn’t really anything preventing her from moving around him, they were trapped together—held prisoner by desire. Now, if only he could get her to admit as much.

  “What brings you to London, Anna? I thought you avoided it at all costs.”

  He also couldn’t help but wonder how she got an invitation to this event. The sad reality of society was that a woman like Anna—a fallen woman—would always be snubbed. Even if she did not own an establishment such a Stourbridge, her fall from society was enough. To most of society, Anna was simply a fallen woman, heading up an establishment that sold sin. Few even knew she actually owned the place. Would they think better or worse of her, if they knew she did not work for some unknown, powerful man and that Stourbridge was entirely run by her hand, he wondered.

  It had taken a great deal of effort not to press her and her staff for details during his stay there. Unfortunately for him, her servants and the working girls there were infinitely loyal to her and refused to say a word.

  Anna’s smile tightened. He saw her defences rise—as if they could get any higher. Her shoulders were straight, her chin lifted. “Not all Stourbridge business can be conducted from Buckinghamshire, unfortunately. It does warrant the occasional visit to London.”

  “And you decided to attend a few social events during your stay here?”

  “And why not?”

  “Why not indeed? But pray tell how did you get an invitation at the last minute? Lady Elridge is normally so...selective with her invitations.”

  “What you mean to say, Harris, is why did she invite someone like me here, is it not?”

  He could have bitten off his own tongue. Where his charm went around her, he didn’t know. For some damned reason all this woman’s secrets piqued his curiosity. He longed to know more of her and apparently that meant he wasn’t at all subtle with his questions.

  “Please do not think it a complaint. I am infinitely happy to have seen you again. It at least gives me that chance to thank you again for your diligent care.”

  Waving her fan in a dismissive movement, she snapped it closed. “I would have done the same for any other man injured on my land.”

  “Even going so far as to attend to their bedside? That I cannot believe.”

  “Well, of course, I have been friends with your brother for some years.” An eyebrow rose slightly. “I could hardly abandon his brother, now could I?”

  A painful shaft of jealousy grated his insides for a brief moment. Then he recalled Ash and his pretty little wife and the interaction between Ash and Anna. He had wondered if there had been something between them, but she’d been as cool with him as she was with everyone else.

  And when he moved a fraction closer, her eyes flared. However she felt toward Ash, there was no denying she was attracted to Harris.

  Now, if only he could persuade her to stop fighting it. If she were to stay in London, perhaps he’d have the chance and with his leg on the mend, he was in a much better position to persuade her of the benefits of a dalliance.

  He kept his gaze locked on hers as he leaned in a little. Her height meant he didn’t have to dip his head far to bring them close enough so that it wouldn’t take much for their lips to meet. He could hear her breaths quicken.

  “You will always have my gratitude for your care, Anna. Should you ever need anything from me, do not hesitate to ask.” He curled a hand around her fan and took it from her to loop it carefully around her wrist, settling it until it was just so. He held onto her wrist longer than he needed to before raising his gaze to hers. “Anything at all.”

  She blinked several times then cleared her throat. He waited for her answer. It would be something pithy or sharp or—

  “Anna Dubois!”

  He twisted to view the source of the declaration. A man of similar age to him staggered toward them, a glass of champagne cradled in one hand. The liquid sloshed over the side and from the weigh
ted look of his eyelids, the more he lost from the glass the better.

  Harris glanced at Anna and saw something he never expected from her. She shrank back.

  Instinctively, Harris stepped in front of her as this—well, gentleman was putting it politely—veered toward them.

  “Anna, it is you. Bloody hell, I haven’t seen you in years.” He paused in front of them both and finally seemed to spot Harris. “Cynfell, still hobbling around, eh?”

  Harris narrowed his gaze at the slightly sweaty fellow and tried to lure up a name. Frank? Fred? It evaded him but the face was familiar now, if only because they occasionally attended the same events, but he was the son of some rich merchant and thus not titled so not as in demand as Harris was. From the look of him now, he would expect his inebriated state to have something to do with that too.

  “Can I help you?” Harris asked pointedly, keeping Anna firmly tucked behind him.

  The chap peered around him at Anna. “Just saying hello to an old friend.”

  “I don’t recall ever being your friend, Francis.” Anna said with bitterness to her tone.

  “Well, that’s not very nice.” Francis gave Cynfell a grin as if they were somehow in collusion with each other. “She’s a frosty thing is she not, Cynfell? Let me save you some time and effort and introduce you to a nice, welcoming young lady. There’s a few pretty, eager little things around.”

  A fist curled at his side, Harris moved forward. “If I see you anywhere near any pretty, eager things, I’ll make damn sure you’re never invited to one of these events again. And you will never speak like that about Miss Dubois again, do you understand?” He stared down his nose at the man and saw his Adam’s apple bob.

  Francis lifted his palms. “Anna knows I don’t mean it, don’t you, Anna?”

  “I certainly do not!” she declared from behind him. “You need to go home, you’re beyond inebriated.”

  Francis jerked up his chin and stepped back from Harris. “Don’t blame me when you get nowhere, Cynfell. She’s a frigid bitch.”

  Harris lunged for him, but Anna snatched his arm before he could swing his fist at him.