Disgust mottled the woman’s face as she rose and stomped toward him. Gideon shrunk back, as if afraid she might strike him. Instead, the woman gentled her expression and movements as she came near, brushing against his body as she reached for the latch on the door.
“Are you sure I can’t change your mind, my lord?”
His expression hardened. He must have learned that look from his brother. “Very sure. I’m not looking for company tonight.”
“No.” The woman shot Felicia a dirty look. “It seems as though you already have all the company you need.” Leaning forward, the woman whispered something that made Gideon turn as red as a tomato.
“Good day, madam,” he said stiffly. He didn’t move an inch as the serving maid opened the door and left.
The moment the door reunited with the frame, he lunged for his jacket and dug through the pockets until he found the key to the door. He locked it.
Felicia took a step back, intending to return to her room and leave him in peace. When he tilted his head toward the ceiling, his eyes screwed tight as if in pain, pity surged in her chest. She couldn’t leave him so obviously distraught by the ordeal. For a stubborn, dominant man in all other respects, he’d reacted to her like a boy. In fact, Felicia was astounded he’d managed to find the mettle to force his admirer to leave.
Without departing from the threshold of the connecting door, Felicia offered, “It’s the perfume.”
He opened his eyes. His irises appeared greener than ever with an emotion she couldn’t name. “What is?”
She gestured to the shut door. “The women, throwing themselves at you.”
He rolled his eyes. “No other cologne I’ve had the misfortune of using has had that effect.”
“Well, they weren’t brewed by me, were they?” She propped her hands on her hips. “It’s a perfume designed to attract the opposite sex. I sell them at market.”
“Lawks!” He raised his hand as if to claw away his shirt, only to realize that he had already begun undressing. His cheeks turned pink again. He crossed his arms, not that that hid his torso overmuch. “How do I make it stop?”
Felicia bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a laugh. “Soap and water will do the trick.”
He crossed to the basin, only to stop short. “I haven’t any soap.”
“There was some in my room. Wait a moment.”
It smelled soft and floral, clearly only added to her room because she traveled with the Dowager Duchess of Tenwick, but it would serve Gideon well enough. By the time she returned with the small square of soap, he stood over the basin, splashing water on himself with his hands. He didn’t even have a rag or handkerchief. With a sigh, she turned on her heel and found one.
She dipped it in the water and lathered the soap. “Where did Lucy spill the perfume?”
He looked away and muttered, “Where didn’t she?”
“I’d rather not have to smell various parts of your chest to find out.”
The look he gave her was mixed alarm and something else. His eyes darkened. She focused on his bare chest, though that didn’t help her sanity much. The musky scent of the perfume swirled around her. She dabbed at his skin.
He raised his hand, tracing out a large circle of skin on his left side. “Here.” His voice was husky. It sent a shiver down her spine.
Pressing her lips together, she fought not to show a reaction. She applied the wet handkerchief to his skin, rinsed it, lathered it with more soap, and continued. The musky scent lightened, but only marginally.
“I’m not a virgin,” he blurted. “I have made love to a woman.”
A quick glance to his face showed his jaw clenched as he looked away from her. He flew his colors.
A woman. He probably wasn’t as sexually experienced as her, but he wasn’t as old as her, either. Her breasts ached as an unwanted thought flashed across her mind. What would it be like to teach him more of the pleasures between a man and a woman? She bet he’d be a quick study.
She bit the inside of her cheek and continued her ministrations. “I believe you.”
Damn! Was her voice as husky as his? It was the perfume’s effect. This close to him, she had difficulty ignoring it. She’d never had to test her own product in such a way before.
His palm wrapped around her shoulder. The short sleeve of her chemise muted his touch, but not enough. Warmth seeped into her skin through the thin material.
“I have.”
His muscles bunched beneath her hand and handkerchief. A droplet of water snaked down his torso and beneath the breeches covering his navel. Felicia licked her lips, battling the urge to trace its path.
The perfume. The knowledge of what it was doing to her was little balm to her frayed resistance.
“I said I believe you.”
“So you said, but I don’t think that you do.” His grip on her shoulder tightened. The edge of his hand grazed her bare skin beneath the sleeve. That small brush of his skin branded her.
She swallowed and licked her lips. Her hand tightened on the wet handkerchief. “What does it matter whether I believe you?”
“It matters,” he said, his expression intense. He lowered his mouth to hers.
He had to bend to meld their mouths. He had plenty of time and opportunity to think better of the action—and so did she. Lust clouded her judgment due to the perfume still clinging to his skin. What was his excuse?
The moment his mouth brushed hers, desire surged and obliterated the small measure of control she still had left. She lifted onto her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck as she opened her mouth. He took full advantage, conquering her and pressing her closer.
He touched her everywhere, like he couldn’t get enough. Between her shoulder blades, over her hip, palming her breast through her chemise. Until he touched bare skin above her knee, she hadn’t realized that her legs were bare. Her chemise didn’t extend to the floor. Had she been half-naked in front of him this entire time?
A stupid question. Of course she had. She broke the kiss, gulping for air as clarity returned. Raising his hand to cup her cheek, he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb.
Felicia knew the exact moment his senses returned, because alarm spiked across his expression. He released her with alacrity.
“I think it’s best that you leave.”
She’d already turned her back. Bolting for the adjoining door mere steps away, she shut it hard. Her hand still on the cold metal latch, she battled for breath. Her body tingled, ignited from his touch.
That blasted perfume. It was going to be a long, sleepless night.
9
Voices, muffled by the wall and door between them. Felicia held her breath, straining her ears. She shut her eyes against the thin morning light streaming through the window, the better to catch the words—or, at the very least, the identity of those who spoke next door. No luck. Her heart thumped too loudly in her ears for her to hear.
The only reason she had kissed the pigheaded Lord Gideon Graylocke last night was because of the pheromones in the perfume. But that didn’t mean she wanted to be caught alone in his presence. The easiest way to ensure that would be to wait until everyone else had entered the carriage. She paced her room again, waiting for the voices to stop and for him to leave his room. Hers overlooked the courtyard, an excellent vantage point that had afforded her a glimpse of the coach as it was readied and brought around, not to mention the two ebony-haired heads and one blonde who had disappeared within not two minutes ago. Gideon was the last.
She didn’t have to await him long; in a moment, the voices ceased and the opening and closing of the door indicated that he had gone below stairs. She straightened her shoulders. As she was to be ensconced in a closed carriage with him for the next several hours, she couldn’t avoid him entirely. Nor did she want to. She’d done nothing wrong.
After all, he had kissed her. She’d only responded because of the perfume.
Even armed with that consolation, she waited unti
l the footsteps retreated down the stairs before she slipped out of her room, leaving the key on the desk for retrieval. The moment she shut the door behind her, the door to Gideon’s room opened. He froze in the threshold.
“I thought you’d gone down already.”
Blast, why had she said that?
In a distant, even tone, he answered, “The driver came to collect my trunk.”
Of course. How bacon-brained of her not to consider it! Simply because she chose to travel light did not mean that the Graylocke family did the same.
Gideon’s hair was a mess this morning, looking as though he’d tried to finger-comb it flat. He’d shaved, but the lack of stubble only emphasized the shape and softness of his mouth. He was dressed to the nines in a soft-looking brown jacket, paired with dark breeches. His cravat was tied in a simple knot, slightly askew. From the way it gaped away from his collar, he’d already attempted to adjust it this morning.
Coldly, he shut the door and motioned for her to precede him. “Ladies first, Miss Albright.”
Oh, so she was Miss Albright again, was she? Not that he’d uttered her Christian name aloud, but sometime during the carriage ride yesterday, the atmosphere had softened to one of informality. He certainly hadn’t been thinking of her as Miss Albright while he’d been kissing her.
She narrowed her eyes. If he was determined to ignore the passion that had ignited between them, she would prove to him just how impossible that task could be.
Although she’d donned her spencer to brace against the autumn chill outdoors, she hadn’t buttoned it yet. She was glad for that now. Leaning forward, she offered him a better view of her low cut gown and asked, “Aren’t you going to offer to escort me down?”
He spluttered. His mouth flapped like a fish. Open, closed, open again, mimicking the fists at his sides. His gaze strayed from her décolletage to search her face. “Yesterday, you said…”
She sidled closer, emphasizing the sway of her hips. He took small, measured steps back. Did he realize he was doing it? She smirked. “I know what I said yesterday.”
While battling laughter, she couldn’t quite manage a husky purr. But she must have come close, because alarm flashed over Gideon’s face.
Leaning up on her tiptoes—not that it drew her any closer—she whispered, “I also know what I did yesterday.”
“I—uh—” He dashed his fingers through his hair, mussing it further.
Laughter welled in her throat. Her cheeks ached as her smile grew. She turned on her heel before he realized she was laughing at his lack of composure. A stoic, controlled man like Gideon was never out of his element. Except with her.
As she sashayed to the stairs, she thought, The ride today ought to be a delight.
The ride was not a delight. At first, it amused her to keep him off balance. The graze of her arm against his or her fingertips over his thigh, making him jump. Leaning forward at just the right angle to remind him of her feminine form. When his family shot her disapproving looks—or worse, sly ones—the game soon grew tiresome. Gideon’s cheeks were perpetually ruddy. He shifted position twice a minute as he stared out the window, not contributing to the conversation at all.
Although she’d expected the aroma of the perfume to be gone today, it continued to cling to him. She only caught a whiff of the musk when she leaned in to tease him, but that small scent was enough to alert her to the fact that it continued to wreak havoc on her body. After washing, the residual perfume left clinging to him was probably close to the recommended dose. From the moment she realized that, she kept to the corner of the coach, trying to put as much distance between herself and that perfume as possible. It had already made her do something that she regretted; better not add to it. Though flustering him was fun, it lost much of his allure with the suspicious narrowing of his mother and sister’s eyes.
Did they suspect that Felicia had kissed him? She applied herself to embroidery for much of the ride to Tenwick Abbey.
As they rattled through a small village, identical to several others they’d traversed, Lucy straightened. She handed Antonia, asleep with her head tucked under her wing, to Evelyn.
“Look, it’s Locksley village!” She clasped Charlie’s arm. “We’re almost home.”
Curious, Felicia glanced out the window, ignoring Gideon and focusing on the passing of the wooden houses. Within a minute, they had reached the village limits and driven free again.
Trees enclosed the road, their bare branches clawing at the gray sky. Felicia moved back, though she kept one eye on the narrow window, hoping for a view of the abbey before they arrived.
She wasn’t disappointed. Within ten minutes, they passed a whitewashed church with a tall steeple. Trees bordered the road, not quite blotting out the view of the steeple rising above them. The carriage ambled for another two or three minutes before it turned into a long drive lined with neatly-trimmed box hedges.
The drive was a road in itself. In the distance, a hill loomed with a tall tree cresting it. The tree was barely visible over the opulent abbey.
Tenwick Abbey was ancient. That much was clear even before they neared the sprawling edifice. The dark stone rose from the dry, off-color grass around it as though it had risen from the ground, fully erect. One part in the north corner, the loftiest spire, appeared to be in disrepair. The rest of the mansion was magnificent. At least four stories high, and as long as a London city block. What could one family possibly do with so much space? Felicia couldn’t fathom it.
The drive ended in a circle. One side led to the entrance to the abbey—the other, to the stables. At the crest of the circle, her colorful wagon awaited. Although Rudolph wasn’t hitched to it, Chubs sat in front of the door, guarding the entrance. Felicia grinned. The Graylockes were home and now, so was she.
“What’s that?” Lucy asked.
Felicia barely heard her. She hummed with joy over the thought of seeing her pets again. Although three days hadn’t seemed like such a prodigiously long time, in actuality, it had been. She’d missed having Chubs sit near her ankles as she ate, inching closer and closer as if she couldn’t see an eleven-stone dog. She’d missed the way Rudolph lipped at her hand when she scratched the coarse whiskers on his chin. With the lumpy mattress she’d slept on last night, she’d even missed her narrow cot.
Home. She was lucky to be able to bring it with her wherever she went.
The second the carriage stopped, she bolted out the door. Her wagon was twenty feet away from where they’d stopped, but Chubs noticed her immediately. He stood from his guard position, his tail wagging madly.
“Come here, boy.”
Chubs thundered over the packed dirt. His pink tongue flopped out the side of his mouth, flapping with each of his steps along with his ears. To keep him from jumping, Felicia lowered herself onto her knees and opened her arms wide in welcome. He barreled into her and knocked her to the ground, squeezing the air from her lungs as he planted his paws on her shoulders and cleaned her face.
She turned her face to the side, giggling. “I missed you too, Chubs, but you’ve been sneaking too many snacks while I was away. You’re heavy!”
When she tried to ease him off of her, she nearly got a tongue in her mouth for her troubles. She clamped her lips and her eyes shut and squirmed until she could roll onto her side. When she opened one eye into the barest slit, she looked directly into a large, black dog nose.
“Sit.”
The ground vibrated as Chubs dropped his bottom onto it. His tail thumped the ground with vigor.
“I take it this is your beast.” Gideon’s voice was laced with sarcasm as he exited the carriage and helped the eager ladies out after him.
Felicia grinned. “Well he certainly isn’t going to win any prizes for beauty.”
With a whine, the mastiff clawed at her with his heavy paw. One thing she hadn’t missed was feeling that paw in her face first thing in the morning when he had to make water. Cooing under her breath, she scratched him behind h
is ears.
He was a mangy thing. Bigger in the paws than he was around the legs. She fed him as much as she could, but for all her quips he could probably use a few more meals. His ribs weren’t poking out the way they were when she’d met him, but she could still see them against his glossy black coat.
Parts of his body betrayed his less than gentlemanly past. Bald patches of skin over scars on his rump, side, and ear. One of his ears was a bit misshapen, likely from a fight with a cat in a nasty mood. For all that, he didn’t seem to realize that he wasn’t quite to the caliber of breeding as a lord’s dog might be. He sat as tall and proud as if he’d been awarded Dog of the Year. His tongue hung from the side of his mouth. Felicia leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his long snout. He tried to reciprocate, but she pulled away faster, still rubbing his ears. As her thumbs dipped inside, his eyes shut in ecstasy.
She’d probably been caught in the Dog Petting trap, never to be able to stop again, but she didn’t mind. She had missed him, after all. She waved Gideon closer.
“This is Chubs. Why don’t you meet him, so he doesn’t accidentally tear you to shreds if you approach the wagon?”
A dubious expression crossed his face as he tentatively stepped closer. When he offered his hand, Chubs licked it and rolled onto the ground, belly up. Gideon crouched to scratch the dog’s barrel chest.
“This is your guard dog?”
She laughed. “He’s much different when he’s on protective duty, I assure you.”
“If you say so…” His voice was laden with disbelief.
She turned her face, only then realizing how close she was to him. Her smile slipped. Only inches separated them. Far too close. She had to get away from that blasted perfume. She stood, wiping the palms of her gloves on her skirt. She buttoned up one more button on her spencer, just to be safe. It was cool, but not as much as it had been this morning. The sun, hiding behind the clouds at the moment, had chased away a lot of the autumn chill.
At the carriage, a clamor started at the door, a testament to Lucy’s excitement to get out into the open air. Unfortunately, she was laden with an uncooperative parrot who didn’t want to close her wings enough to safely fit through the carriage door.
Tempting The Rival (Scandals and Spies Book 3) Page 8
