The Secrets of Seduction (The Ladies of The Burling School Book 7)

by Elizabeth Lennox

  “Malcolm!” she whispered, clutching the dress to her breasts, but she couldn’t finish her sentence.

  He looked up, watching her in the mirror. “The next time you wear this dress, I’m going to make love to you just like this,” he told her. Then he bent his head, gently kissing down her neck and along her bare shoulder. A moment later, he stepped out of the dressing room.

  It took Ella several minutes before she could move. And when she did, it was to lean a hand against the mirror. Taking in deep gulps of air, she tried to slow her pounding heart rate. The kisses hadn’t been overtly sexual, but there’d been the promise of pleasure in his touch, in his kiss. It was shattering!

  “Ma’am?” a female voice called. “Your husband asked me to see if you need assistance.”

  Ella blinked at the still closed door, willing her body to stop trembling. She couldn’t go out there like this. Her knees barely supported her, her hand braced against the mirror. “I’m fine!” she lied, closing her eyes to banish the image of Malcolm kissing her from her mind.

  He was cheating, she thought and pushed away from the mirror. Straightening, she shucked the dress off and…hesitated. She wanted to toss it into the corner, crumpled in a ball. But it was a stunning dress and she loved the designer too much to disrespect the dress like that. Instead, she carefully hung the dress back on the hangar and pulled on her own clothes. There were still two other dresses that Malcolm had suggested she try on, but Ella determined that trying on anything else was a bad idea at this point. Jeans and her tee-shirt were a safer choice.

  Stepping out of the dressing room, she left all of the dresses hanging there, determined not to allow Malcolm to buy any of them. “Thank you for your help,” she said to the salesperson.

  “Not a problem, ma’am,” she replied with a smile, then stepped around her to collect the dresses. “I’ll just get these wrapped up for you.” And she took all four of the dresses.

  “Oh, I’m not buying any of them,” Ella told her firmly.

  The woman smiled, tilting her head as if she thought Ella was being cute. “Your husband has already paid for all four of them, ma’am.”

  Ella gritted her teeth, not sure if she liked being called “ma’am”, but very certain that she didn’t like Malcolm going behind her back and buying her dresses that were…well, she could buy a brand new car for the same amount of money!

  “Malcolm, you’re not buying me anything,” she told him as soon as she stepped out of the dressing room area.

  “I’m not?” he asked, looking up from his cell phone. He was leaning a shoulder against the wall, obviously waiting for her.

  “No! Those dresses are too expensive and…!” Before she could finish her comment, the salesperson stepped up with the dresses already encased in a protective, plastic wardrobe bag.

  “It was a pleasure, my lord,” she said, smiling up at Malcolm.

  Ella sighed, then turned to glare up at him. “Why are you helping me? As soon as I figure this out, you’re going to prison.”

  He laughed softly and put a hand to the small of her back, ignoring the horrified look on the salesperson’s face as he led her out of the store. “Maybe I’m daring you to figure this out,” he told her.

  She thought about that for a moment, and nodded. “Okay, I can see that. You’re arrogant enough to think I’m not smart enough. Or your secret-club cronies are powerful enough that anything I discover will be suppressed. Do they all have a ‘get out of jail free’ card?” she asked, suspiciously.

  He chuckled as they left the boutique. “I suspect that some of them do. But I have every confidence that you will be able to not only get enough evidence to stop their efforts to avoid prosecution, but that your writing is powerful enough to convince public sentiment that something has to change in the system.” He looked down at her as he opened the back of his car. “You’ve demonstrated the power of your writing before. Don’t let me down.”

  Chapter 6

  Ella smoothed the burgundy evening gown over her hips, twisting from right to left in an effort to see how she looked. The bodice was covered in sparkling jewels and reached her neck. It was sleeveless, and hugged her breasts and tapered at her waist. Thankfully, the skirt was several dozen layers of burgundy chiffon. No thigh slits and nothing see through.

  She hadn’t accepted the garment bag from Malcolm after trying on all of the dresses. But as soon as she’d pulled into the parking lot of her tiny apartment, a delivery person with the dresses and the bag of lingerie was waiting for her. She didn’t even have to sign for the delivery. The man just smiled professionally and handed both bags to her as soon as she’d stepped out of her car. The dratted man hadn’t given her a chance to refuse the delivery. He was gone before she’d even closed her car door.

  So, now she was the proud owner of four evening gowns and a lot of sexy, expensive lingerie.

  She’d also received a text message from his assistant with the time that Malcolm would pick her up and the names of the people they were trying to connect with. Ella had stared at the text message, recognizing several of the names. They’d come up in her research, plus she knew that those men had traveled to several of the countries where “flaming hand” sightings had occurred.

  Those names were the only reason she was dressed and ready to attend this event tonight. At least, that’s what she told herself. Ella stared at her reflection in the mirror, realizing that there was a betraying level of excitement emanating from her. Was that because she was going to find out more information on her investigation? Or was it because she was about to see Malcolm again?

  Ella tried very hard to be honest with herself. And deep down inside, she knew that her excitement was due to the anticipation of seeing Malcolm tonight.

  She also suspected that he wasn’t the man she’d originally thought him to be. He was helping her to investigate what was going on with this “flaming hand” thing. He was going out of his way to provide information as well as access to places that would normally be out of her reach.

  After spending time with him for the past several days, Ella had to admit that he wasn’t acting like a man trying to hide something. Her gut told her that he was innocent. Even more, it seemed as if he wanted to discover the truth as well. But her instincts also told her that he knew more than he let on.

  “I can do this,” she told her reflection. And with a nod of confidence, she turned away from the mirror, enjoying the way the chiffon skirt fluttered around her legs. She’d even pinned her hair up and added a pair of faux diamond earrings. She looked and felt sexy.

  “Time to get more leads,” she muttered as she grabbed her evening bag. Ella wasn’t foolish enough to let Malcolm pick her up at her apartment door. After their last few interludes, she understood the risk that they wouldn’t manage to leave her apartment. Instead, she walked to the lobby of her apartment building, stepping out of the elevator just as a long, elegant limousine pulled up outside of the door.

  For a fraction of a second, Malcolm looked surprised as she stepped out of the building just as he was getting out of the limousine, but quickly, his gaze took in her figure in the burgundy dress and his surprise was replaced by admiration. “You look lovely.” he told her as he took her hand.

  Ella smiled up at him. “Thank you for the dress.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “It is my pleasure,” he told her, his voice deep and sexy.

  She slipped into the dark interior and took a deep, calming breath. When Malcolm stepped in after her, she scooted over, but he took her hand, stopping her from moving away. “Just enjoy tonight, Ella. Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want to happen.”

  That was part of the problem, she thought. Honesty wasn’t always a comfortable thing, but she had to admit that she wanted him. And even more, she trusted him. She wasn’t sure exactly when that had happened. She’d come back from her last assignment, determined to put this man in prison. Nor was she sure why she trusted h
im, but her instincts insisted that he wasn’t the bad guy. History and the way his father had treated her mother had influenced her opinion of him. But Ella knew that father and son were different people.

  “You don’t live on the estate with your father?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied, looking straight ahead.

  “Why not?”

  Ella held her breath, suspecting that his answer would be very important. Both what he said and what he didn’t say.

  “My father and I don’t agree on a lot of issues.”

  “He doesn’t want you living at the main house?” she probed, needing clarification.

  Malcolm laughed, shaking his head as he lifted her hand to his lips again. “My father repeatedly demands that I move back to the house and live on the estate,” he replied, but didn’t add that there wasn’t a chance in hell that it would ever happen. No, his issues with Edward were private. As much as he wanted to spend several days and nights with Ella wrapped around his body as he made love to her in every conceivable way, the bottom line was that Ella was a reporter. He’d never aired his dirty laundry in the past and he wasn’t going to start now.

  His father was a monster. Looking out the window, he wondered if his father would ever receive the punishment that he deserved. Ella’s investigation into the flaming hand pin was a start. But what did it all mean? Malcolm knew that his father was a member of that society. The news that someone had seen the flaming heart symbols in a small village on another continent bothered him deeply. He and his friends had started the group as a counter to the ridiculous flaming palm society. Members of that group truly were human traffickers, stealing young people, both boys and girls, out of vulnerable villages and selling them on the black market. He knew that Jenna had caught wind of someone trying to steal girls out of Tular lately, but he’d thought that their group had put a stop to it.

  Had someone within the new group decided to advertise their efforts? Some members had brought up the issue of publicity before. And that would make sense with the sightings Ella mentioned. There had been four women who had been near death in a small village in Tular. And yes, he and Jenna had arranged for those girls to be picked up and delivered to a hospital in Germany. But he and Jenna, and most of the other members of their group, had decided to keep their activities quiet in order to maintain their ability to move in and out of countries more easily. It allowed better efficiency of their efforts. So, had someone decided to go rogue?

  It was possible. The more people who joined their organization, the more opinions were involved.

  He looked down and realized that Ella was still waiting for an answer. “My father and I aren’t close.”

  “So…living together isn’t a possibility?”

  “Not a possibility.” He decided that a change in subject would be a good idea before she probed the issue of his relationship with his father too deeply. There were things in his past that were better left in the past. Probing would resolve nothing.

  “The men you’ll meet tonight might be a bit…” he searched for the right word. “Chauvinistic,” he informed her. “And we might get more information from them if you play along with their…beliefs.”

  Ella looked confused for a moment, then she smiled as if the idea were intriguing. Damn, she was amazing!

  “I remember hearing one of the teachers at my high school boarding school tell another teacher that, if they remained silent during field trips, the students in the van or bus would forget that an authority figure was around. The teacher explained that she learned most of what was going between the students during those road trips.” She laughed. “So I’m supposed to play dumb and silent tonight, is that the strategy?”

  He chuckled, looking at her strangely. “This might be a bad idea.”

  “Why’s that?” she laughed, and he wondered if Ella was aware of her fingers tangling with his.

  “You might be a bit too smart to play dumb.”

  She laughed outright. “I don’t think anyone has ever complimented me so beautifully!” and she leaned her head against his shoulder for a brief moment. When she lifted her head up, Ella looked startled, as if she hadn’t meant to be openly affectionate.

  Malcolm chuckled at her expression. “Don’t worry, Ella. I won’t assume anything. Let’s just have fun tonight, okay?” He leaned back in the leather seat. “You play dumb and I’ll ask leading questions.” He squeezed her hand. “If you want to pretend a bit of drunkenness, that might go a long way towards convincing these men that you’re invisible and harmless.”

  “Ah, what every woman aspires to be; invisible around strong, powerful men!”

  The limousine pulled up outside of a massive house that looked as if it might be a castle, except that it was less than ten years old. There was something about older houses that seemed to exude dignity and reverence. But this house gave the impression that it continued to yell “Look at me!” instead. Such a sad state of affairs. In a country filled with beautiful, old houses, the owner of this one had to fake it with a pretend-old house.

  The driver pulled up to the curb and someone immediately opened the back door. Malcolm exited first and turned to offer his hand to Ella.

  “Good evening, Lord Theeds,” the butler greeted him.

  As they walked into the house, Ella took Malcolm’s hand, her eyes wide as she feigned excitement at the pretentiousness. “Do you think we’ll see any movie stars?” Ella asked, adding a note of breathlessness to her voice.

  Malcolm laughed and patted her hand. “Anything is possible, my dear. Let me get you something to drink.”

  “Oh, goody!” she replied, playing her part perfectly.

  Malcolm chuckled and, to further convince anyone who might be watching, she pressed herself against his arm and looked around. Ella pretended to be awed by the enormous foyer with the shimmering chandelier, but in reality, she was stunned by the muscles underneath Malcolm’s tuxedo jacket. For a member of the aristocracy, she hadn’t thought that he would be buff. Handsome, yes. But not strong and muscular. Weren’t aristocrats supposed to be lazy and indolent?

  They stepped out onto a large balcony and a man with a booming voice called out, “Marquis of Theeds,” to the crowd below. There was a slight pause in the volume of the conversation in the area and most of the room turned and look up. Malcolm ignored it, feigning indifference. He really didn’t give a damn about any of this. Most of the men in this room were over the age of sixty. Meanwhile, the women hanging on the arms of the gentlemen were in their early to mid-twenties. The ladies all wore glittering dresses that revealed almost as much skin as they covered. Obviously, these women weren’t chosen to be companions for their business intellect.

  Then Malcolm looked down at Ella, thinking of her last article, which had outlined the corruption in that mid-east government. That piece had resulted in the arrest of several government officials, including two royal princes.

  Never underestimate a woman, he told himself. Ella was playing the part of the beautiful ditz perfectly, looking around with wide, amazed eyes. But she was one of the smartest people he knew. He wondered why Ella didn’t write a book about her experiences. Why did she prefer to dive into the worst, most dangerous situations in the world, find an injustice, and then tell the world about it?

  Because she wasn’t just brilliant, he thought as he looked around, taking in the pompous, overbearing, overweight men that moved forward to greet him. Ella was brave and had a huge, giving heart. Which only made him want to help her more.

  “Theeds!” someone called out, using his title instead of his name. He hated that. As Marquis of Theeds, he wished the title would just fall off the face of the earth. But his father, the Duke of Theeds, loved the importance that everyone conveyed upon him because of his title. As a duke, Edward Reynolds ranked higher than almost every man in this room. “It’s great that you finally attended one of our exclusive soirees! It’s about time!”

  Malcolm turned and greeted the man. “Ella, t
his is Lord Heron, Count of Masser,” he said, introducing Ella to the rotund man. “Lord Heron, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Ella, my guest for the evening.”

  Ella beamed and curtsied. It took all of Malcolm’s discipline not to laugh outright at her social gaffe. Especially since he knew that Ella was very aware that one didn’t curtsy to a lord. Hell, she hadn’t even curtsied to him!

  “Goodness, I’m delighted to meet you, Lord Heron!” Ella gushed.

  Heron chuckled and extended his hand. Unfortunately, it also happened to be the arm that his sparkly lady was hanging onto. She had to release his arm and pouted beautifully while she waited for Heron to release Ella’s hand.

  “And what do you do, my dear?”

  Ella smiled and looked around. “Oh, well, I write,” she replied honestly.

  The aging earl chuckled with a patronizing tone. “What sorts of books do you write?”

  Ella waved that away. “Oh, I haven’t written a book yet. But maybe. In the future.”

  Malcolm looked at her curiously, especially since he’d been wondering that exact same thing. “Really? You’d write a book?”

  Ella giggled and squeezed his arms. “Doesn’t everyone want to write the next best-selling novel?”

  The count laughed and nodded with a patronizing smile. “Everyone tries! And you should never give up your hopes and dreams, my dear.”

  “Really?” she asked earnestly. Malcolm watched her and wanted to laugh, but she was doing such an excellent job, he couldn’t ruin her efforts.

  They chatted with the count and his girlfriend for several more minutes, then moved on, greeting others. Ella was astonished by how many members of the British aristocracy were present tonight and amused at how many were eager to welcome Malcolm into their ranks. There were several interesting interactions when someone asked Malcolm if his father was planning to attend the night’s activities. At every inquiry, Malcolm easily deflected the question, neither answering or ignoring it. She was amazed at how he controlled the conversation.