How to Entice an Earl

by Manda Collins

  “It’s not what you think,” he said, knowing that he sounded like every bloody husband who had ever been caught out indulging in an affair. Which made the situation even more unfair, since he hadn’t been indulging in an affair. “I mean, I wasn’t there for what you think I was there for.”

  She only raised one blond brow. Her eyes were like blue flint. This would take some finesse, he thought.

  He thought about approaching her, maybe taking her hands in his. But Christian knew the unspoken language of the body and Maddie’s clearly said, “Do not approach.”

  “Maddie,” he tried again, his voice croaking a little. “I am not the sort of man who would go from your bed to that of a wh—woman of ill repute—in the space of a few days. First of all, I hold you in far too great esteem to do such a thing to you. And secondly, I was quite thoroughly contented by our encounter, and if I were feeling the need to…”—He paused, searching for a delicate term—“see a woman, I would just have come to you.”

  That was hardly something he liked to admit. Not that he was embarrassed by his needs, but he was somewhat abashed at just how much he needed her. Ever since their night together he’d found himself aching to get his hands on her again. Right now he should be peeling her out of that curve-enhancing gown and licking her from head to toe. Instead he was defending a visit to a brothel that he’d undertaken on behalf of saving her scapegrace brother.

  To his surprise, however, his admission only seemed to make her more angry.

  “Must you be such a man?” Maddie demanded, pronouncing the word as if it were a vile epithet. “Do you not think I have the intelligence to know that you were not there for the typical reasons one visits a brothel? Really, Gresham, credit me with a bit of sense.”

  Christian stared. She couldn’t know why he’d actually gone there. Could she?

  Apparently, she could.

  “I know you were there because of something having to do with Tinker’s murder, Christian,” she said acidly. “That is why I am so angry.”

  She was the damnedest woman.

  “Let me make sure I understand you,” he said, his hands on his hips. “Amelia Snowe told you I’d been seen at a brothel just days after I—very ably, I might add—took your virginity. And you are angry not because you thought I’d gone there to whore, but because you know I went there to investigate Tinker’s death? Do I have that right?”

  Maddie twisted her lips in disgust. “When you put it that way it sounds foolish,” she said with frustration. “How could you, Christian? We promised to work together! You were going to keep me informed of developments in our investigation.”

  “And I did,” he said, almost shouting. “You have been a bit busy these past few days, have you not? When was I supposed to tell you about this? When you were being pinned to death by seamstresses? Or maybe when you and your cousins were closeted together deciding which of your gowns you would be bringing with you to Gresham House?”

  “You could have found a way,” she said, striding toward him, stopping when their toes touched. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, poking him in the chest with an accusing finger.

  “Because I was trying to keep you safe, damn it,” he all but roared. “Because I was trying to ensure that you did not suffer any more on behalf of your damned brother! And because the thought of you in that vile place was enough to set my teeth on edge!”

  Unable to stop himself, he took her by the shoulders, and crushed his mouth to hers.

  One minute they were arguing, and the next they were kissing as if they hadn’t seen one another in ten years. All the anger she’d been holding back as the day progressed was suddenly transformed into a frenetic sensual energy, as Maddie gave as good as she got.

  Opening her mouth under his, she pressed as close as she could get to every muscular inch of him. Grasping blindly, she held on for dear life to his coat, his shirt, his cravat—whatever she could get her hands on. She felt Christian’s hands move restlessly over her, one sliding up to bury itself in her hair, the other clasping her buttocks and pressing her against his growing erection.

  “Maddie,” she felt him mutter against her mouth, as she stroked a restless hand under his coat, then waistcoat to feel the warmth of his skin through the lawn of his shirt. “My God,” he said again, moving down her chin with his lips as she used her other hand to roughly caress him through the placket of his breeches.

  “Don’t,” he said with a strangled cry as she grasped him. “Don’t, damn it,” he said again when she ignored him. “I want this to last more than a minute,” he hissed. But rather than feeling cowed by his admonition, Maddie hid a grin. A grin that disappeared when she felt him press her against the wall of the sitting room, and bend his knees so that he could pull up her skirt.

  She gave a little gasp as she felt him run a hand over the silk stockings covering her right calf and up over her thigh to slip along the exposed skin over her garters. Lifting her chin and pressing her head back against the wall, she bit back a squeak as she felt him move up to caress the hot wetness between her legs. At the same time, he deftly pulled down the bosom of her gown and took her nipple in his mouth and sucked. The onslaught of sensation stole Maddie’s breath as she felt her pelvis thrust up to meet his hand.

  “Ah, God,” he said, slipping first one finger, then another into her throbbing passage, moving them in a slowly building rhythm that almost made her weep.

  Though she was almost mindless from his ministrations, Maddie reached down again and caressed him through his pants. This time, unable to resist her, Christian thrust himself against her hand, never losing the steady pace of his fingers sliding into her.

  It was at once a rekindling of the passion they’d experienced in Maddie’s bedchamber, but it was also something more. Something mad and uncontrollable. Maddie felt as if she were going to split apart into a million bits if he didn’t give her what she craved.

  Unable to keep still, she felt the pleasure build within her as again and again he pressed into her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. She fumbled to grasp him again, but when Christian touched that spot above where he thrust into her with his thumb, she felt herself convulse and cry out.

  Moving uncontrollably until she finally flew over the precipice, she was dimly aware of Christian unbuckling his breeches, and shifting her, lifting her against the wall.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he said in a tight voice, her body braced between the wall and his arms. Maddie complied, almost instinctively, and when his hardness nudged against her, she felt the languor that had flooded her moments before dissipate to be replaced by excitement.

  Wordlessly, Christian held her there with one arm, and bending his knees slightly, guided himself into her. Opening her eyes, Maddie found her gaze locked with his as inch by excruciating inch, he breached the entrance of her and pressed inexorably inside.

  Suddenly the haste of their earlier loveplay was replaced by a connection that frightened her with its intensity. Christian did not look away as, fully seated now, he kept one arm beneath her buttocks and began to move within her. Coupled with their shared gaze, the friction of his motions was devastating.

  Reveling in the strength of his arms around her, and in the knowledge that this man loving her was not just her lover, but her husband, Maddie was almost overcome with emotion. The urgency built within her as she rocked into him, opening herself wider for him as again and again he pressed her into the wall. All of her senses were hypersensitive to the moment, to the sounds, the smells, the tastes of their coupling.

  On an upstroke, he leaned forward and took her mouth with his. The thrust of his tongue into her mouth mimicked the motions of their lower bodies as he continued to move in and out of her heat. Each stroke sent her closer and closer to that place where she would lose herself in bliss.

  Suddenly, he began to move faster, plunge higher and harder into her. And Maddie felt her breath quicken and her own movements grow erratic. Pinned agai
nst the wall, she felt the crisis come upon her, lifting her higher and higher into the ether until she lost control and began to fly. She was aware of Christian thrusting wildly into her until he, too, found bliss, and she felt the flood of his release within her.

  As she came back to herself, she felt him panting as he pressed his forehead against the wall beside her, and slowly he allowed her to unwrap her legs from his waist and slide down the wall.

  Wordlessly, he took her hand and led her into his bedchamber, where they both removed their clothing, and climbed into his enormous bed.

  And slept.

  * * *

  When Christian roused some hours later, it was to find a lush, naked female body pressed up against him. Maddie’s body, he thought with some degree of satisfaction. He might not have foreseen marrying her at the beginning of the season, but now that the deed was done, he was quite happy with the situation. Not only because of the passion between them, which was unlike anything he’d experienced, but also because it quite simply felt right.

  He was a logical sort of man. For all of his appreciation of instinct, he had never thought to choose a wife based on it. Like most men with a succession to secure, he had thought to make a rational choice from among a carefully selected assortment of potential brides. But somehow he’d been drawn into Maddie’s web, and rather than fighting to free himself, he’d allowed himself to be captured, with nary a protest.

  He hadn’t intended to behave like such a brute on their first time together as man and wife, he reflected, idly skimming a finger over her soft breast. But he could not deny that the lovemaking had been intense. And, recalling the way she’d held his gaze as he thrust into her, it had been one of the most intimate moments of his life. Their bodies had remained clothed, but through their eyes, their souls had been laid bare.

  As his body responded typically to the memory, he felt his new wife stretch luxuriantly in his arms before turning neatly in his arms and kissing him on the chin.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice still a bit rough with sleep. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Sliding his hands down her back and cupping her backside, he kissed her properly. “I am often to be found here,” he said, drawing back to kiss the end of her nose. “Most nights, in fact.”

  Her mouth opened to respond, but her response was forestalled by a very loud rumble of hunger from her stomach. “Oh, dear,” she said, coloring a little. “I’m afraid I was unable to eat much at the breakfast. What with nerves and Amelia and all.”

  “Then I will simply have to feed you,” Christian said, tossing the bedclothes off them and lifting her into his arms. At her squeal of protest, he shushed her. “You are as light as a feather.”

  “A nine-stone feather,” she said wryly, clasping him around the neck as he headed through the dressing room and into the sitting room between their suites. At the sight of a small table there, laden with covered dishes and wine and fruit, Maddie gasped. “How lovely,” she said as Christian deposited her on her feet, and helped her into the dressing gown draped over her chair.

  Watching her lift the covers to determine what savories awaited them, he covered his nakedness with the banyan that had been draped over his own chair. He could quite easily have gone without clothing for the meal, but he suspected that though she’d never admit it, Maddie was not quite that adventurous.

  Yet.

  They served themselves, Christian pouring the wine, and Maddie filling both their plates with a selection from such delicacies as thinly sliced ham, aspic, strawberries, and sharp cheese.

  One of the things that Christian appreciated most about Maddie was her unabashed enthusiasm. Watching her tuck into the meal before her, he couldn’t help but contrast her shameless appreciation for a good meal with the women he’d seen pick delicately at their food like so many birds.

  As if by mutual consent, they discussed subjects that were not likely to cause discord between them. Christian told amusing stories from his childhood with three sisters, and Maddie related tales of her own exploits with her brother. Their easy camaraderie reminded him of just how much he genuinely liked her and enjoyed watching her respond to the world around her.

  When they were both finished with the meal, Christian drew Maddie’s hand into his and stood. “I would like for you to come with me,” he said, drawing her to her feet.

  A slight furrow appeared between her brows. “Why?” she demanded suspiciously.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said, drawing their linked hands up so that he could kiss the back of her hand. “You must trust me and come along.”

  Her eyes watching him to determine the sincerity of his words, she gave a quick nod and allowed Christian to lead her toward the door opening into the hall. Once outside the sitting room, he led her toward the back of the house, facing the back garden. Finally, he stopped before one door in particular, and put his hand on the doorknob.

  “Close your eyes,” he said gently, waiting for her to comply. It was clear she wished to protest, but also clear she wished to learn what the devil he was about.

  Finally, after opening the door and ushering her through into the chamber beyond, he squeezed her hand.

  “Open them,” he demanded, watching as she at first peeked out from beneath her lashes, then fully opened her gaze to take in her surroundings.

  “Good heavens!” she exhaled, raising a hand to her chest in wonder. “Christian, what on earth is this?”

  Seventeen

  Maddie gazed about the little office in surprise. The finely turned rosewood desk, which was not so insubstantial as to be ineffective, but not so bulky as to be impractical for a lady, was covered with neatly arranged trays of paper, ink pots, quills, and anything else a writer might need to transport words from the mind to the page.

  Behind the desk, and indeed along every wall of the little room, bookshelves ranged from floor to ceiling. Maddie recognized some of her own favorite novels among the rows of neatly arranged tomes. Indeed, if she were not mistaken, they were her very own copies, brought here from her bedchamber at Essex House.

  She took it all in, feeling Christian standing tensely behind her. As if waiting for her to approve or disapprove.

  “I thought perhaps you might use this room for your writing,” he said diffidently, adopting the age-old male posture for hiding vulnerability, his hands thrust into the pockets of his dressing gown. “If you wish,” he added, clearly trying to indicate that if she chose not to use the room it was no matter to him.

  Turning, Maddie watched as he waited for her response. His body might project indifference, but his eyes told a different story.

  “I love it,” she said, going up on tiptoes to kiss him. “No one has ever given me a more precious gift.”

  She saw flags of red appear in his cheeks. “Wasn’t much of anything, really,” he said, almost shyly. “I simply directed the servants to move your own books in here. And perhaps ordered a few of the novels from Felsham’s that the fellow said you’d been waiting for. I used to go there to buy books for … to buy books.”

  Maddie heard the hesitation in his words, but was unable to keep from looking at all the lovely books. She surveyed the shelves behind the desk, reaching up to touch the spines of the books there. “You bought it!” she breathed. “I’ve been desperate for this one for weeks,” she said excitedly, pulling the first volume of the three-volume set down so that she could examine it more closely.

  Upon closer inspection she realized that the pages had already been cut. “This one has already been read,” she said, turning to look at him with something akin to awe. “Did you read this book already, Christian?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve read a great many of the books in this room,” he said, wandering over to run a hand over the spines himself. “When I returned from the war, I read a great deal.”

  She frowned. “Why specifically then?”

  He did not turn to look at her. “I suppose you have no way of knowing, but many soldiers who ret
urn from battle have difficulty sleeping. Or rather, staying asleep. I developed the trick during my years of campaigning of being able to fall asleep anywhere. When one is bivouacing wherever is convenient, one cannot afford the luxury of waiting for comfort to grab a bit of sleep. But when I returned, the comfortable bed with a roof over my head actually made staying asleep difficult. With the luxury of time,” he went on, “I suppose my brain decided to mull over all those memories that I had suppressed while on the battlefield. As a result, I can rarely sleep for longer than a few hours without being awakened by nightmares.”

  Maddie watched his elegant fingers, smoothing the spines, ensuring that the books were orderly on the shelf. She imagined how difficult it must have been for him to admit his problem to her. And all the affection and passion and friendship she’d been feeling for the man coalesced right there and then into something that felt suspiciously like love.

  “So,” he said, turning back to face her, the good-humored mask that she now realized was simply that—a mask—firmly in place once again. “Yes, I did read some of your books before giving them to you. But if it is any consolation, I can vouch for them being quite entertaining.”

  Stepping closer to him, Maddie reached up and linked her hands behind his neck. “Christian,” she said sweetly, gazing up into his familiar face.

  At his questioning brow, she leaned up and stopped just short of pressing her lips to his. “Shut up and kiss me,” she said.

  * * *

  Much later, when they were sprawled out together in bed, Christian felt Maddie watching him.

  “What is it?” he asked, spying at her from half-closed lids. “I can all but feel you preparing to ask me something.”

  Though his tone was lighthearted, he had a feeling that her question would not be. He had not missed the sharpening of her eyes when he’d stumbled over his words earlier.