Lady Varney's Risqué Business

by Cerise DeLand

  “Oh, my dear girl, if you marry Justin, you best buy the most diaphanous negligees your Parisian lingerie designer can sew!”

  “But I cannot marry Justin, my lord, unless you agree to free him from the necessity of marrying a rich woman.”

  He leaned forward and gazed into her eyes. In his, she saw the joy of an old man with a delicious secret. “My pet, Justin has been free to marry any woman he wished for more than ten years. He did not wish any of them. He wanted only one woman, and she was—until a year and a half ago—beyond his reach.”

  Tears dribbled down her cheeks. “You mean to say that he made up these stipulations? All of them?”

  “The frivolous ones. The golden blonde. The widow. The mother.” The earl nodded. “Of course he did.”

  “But your requirement for wealth?”

  “I freed Justin of that requirement the day Henry Varney died. At his demand.”

  “You knew then that Justin—?”

  “Wanted you for all these years. Would court you if he could. Marry you if he could persuade you. Yes. Oh, yes.”

  She sat there for an hour or more, visiting with the old man, laughing and talking with him. Finally, she asked one more question of him, “Where can I find Justin? He has disappeared from London, and none of the scandal mongers has even a clue where he might have gone.”

  * * * *

  Two days later, Kitty climbed down from the very same carriage with the very same coachman she’s had when she first came to Belmont Manor nearly two months ago. This time, the man seemed friendlier, but she was certain that was because he suspected risqué doings between her and the owner of the manse. The fact that she insisted he return in the hour from the village and that he not remove her trunk from his boot had him frowning.

  “Should I not just wait here for you, milady?” he asked after she alighted.

  “No, please.” I must have hope. I must appear to be confident of acceptance.

  Justin’s butler opened the door, shock the most thrilling emotion inscribed on his usually placid features. “My lady. We are honored by your presence.”

  She wanted to hoot at his pleasantry. “I wish to see Lord Belmont immediately.”

  But wherever Justin was, whatever he had been doing while she paced in his receiving room, she was not prepared for how he looked when he did appear in the doorway.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he rasped, eyes bleary, sans cravat and coat, casual breeches of tan and cordovan riding boots splattered with mud and dust.

  She faced him fully. Not having dared to sit, lest she appear too comfortable when she really felt like bouncing around the room like a ball, she smoothed her skirt. “I came to talk with you.”

  “Talk to you? No. You are deaf!” He advanced on her, fire in his eyes.

  She stood her ground, even if her heart twisted painfully in her chest at his anger. “Obviously, I am blind as well.”

  That took him aback. But he turned on his heel and waved an arm. “Stay. Go. I care not.”

  “But you do. I now know you do!”

  “Late for that,” he muttered, almost to the door and taking her heart and all her hope with him.

  “I went to see your uncle.” She tried one last lure.

  He spun. “At the Abbey?”

  “Yes.”

  “What the devil for?”

  Blurt it out! “I had to ask his blessing so that I could propose marriage to you.”

  His mouth dropped open. He snapped it shut. She could not have shocked him more had she fallen to her knees like a lovesick swain to ask for his hand.

  She had to work quickly. “After the garden party, I felt wretched, and I suspected something between you and Maggie.”

  “Never!”

  She was not deterred. “Something like friendship. Something like trust. I went to her and lo and behold, I see that the two of you have been scheming together!”

  “No matter. Our plans did not work.”

  “My sister loves me. I know she does. And she has never in her short life worked against me.”

  “She is a wise woman.”

  “Wiser than I, apparently. Yes.” Taking the advantage, she rushed onward. “Then the day after the party at the Darlingtons, I learned you had left London. Soon after, the gossips put out that Susanna Curtis would come here soon. I could not bear the idea that she might be here with you and that the only person who should ever enter your tiny wedding cottage is me.”

  “Susanna grows roses,” he informed her as he searched her gaze for truth.

  “But you did not plant them for her to nurture, Justin.” She stepped so close to him, she could smell his cologne, and the fragrance brought back memories of his musky skin pressed to her own. “I am the only one who should tend them. I am the golden blonde, the mother, the widow, the heiress to a grand old title. I am the well-respected woman you want. Need.”

  “Too late. I am done with wanting you, chasing you.”

  “You are. Oh, you most definitely are! And your uncle confirmed it for me.” She placed her palms over the soft cotton of his shirt and spread her fingers over his broad chest. “He released you from the requirement of wealth long ago. At your demand. I did not know. How could I? I did not know how you and he discussed your desire to have me. To marry me. I presumed he demanded wealth from your future bride. Oh, Justin, do not divide us now by your pride. I am the woman you have loved, my darling, for so many years that you refused to marry anyone else.”

  He cursed. “He should not have told you.”

  “You wanted me to realize for myself that you loved me. I know. I know.” With both hands, she cupped his cheeks.

  Grasping her wrists, he pushed her away.

  Desperate now, she would not let him go. “For all the years we lost together, let me make them up to you. Let me.”

  “How can I?” he bellowed.

  “Because you will not marry any other woman.”

  “And I will not marry you. Not when you do not tell me why you wish to marry me.”

  Had she not declared that? Had she not tossed pride and dignity to the winds to tell him how she—

  She stepped to him once more, and this time she rose on tiptoes and brushed her mouth on his once, twice. “I adore you. I have since I was a young girl. I have since I was a sad and forlorn bride, forced to marry a man because my father owed him money. I have loved you through years and years when I endured a lonely, bitter relationship with a man who did naught but belittle me and spend my dowry. All those years, I loved you for how you had saved me from the French. Loved you for the man whose reputation in the ton was sterling. I loved you for the nobility of your character. Loved you when I presumed I would never have you near me. If I was deaf and blind to your true intent with me these past few months, you must forgive me for being a creature unused to having men wait upon her. Unused to happiness. Unused to having anyone make her dreams come true. I loved you, Justin Belmont. American and privateer. Englishman and gentleman. Heir and Viscount. I loved you eleven years ago, and I love you now.”

  Placing her hands on his arms, she put them around her waist. Stiff, unyielding, he did not touch her with his hands. But neither did he retreat. She put her body flush to his, the warm contours of his muscles fitting so well to hers. “Will you please marry me, Justin? I fulfill all your requirements, darling. But most of all, marry me because I love you.”

  He crushed her close to him, one hand around her waist, one hand cupping her hair, dislodging her bonnet. Clasped so near, she could not breathe. Dared not think beyond the moment and the hope he might accept her.

  With a groan, he put one hand to her jaw and kissed her with lips and tongue and teeth. A ravenous mating of mouths, their kiss had her gasping for air.

  Suddenly, he broke away. His gaze deep green with need, he pulled her to the hall and out the garden doors. She struggled to keep up with him. But he was relentless, tugging her along toward the cottage.

  As they approac
hed, she caught the aroma of roses. Young, small roses. Tears sprang to her eyes. As she passed the cuttings, now rooted and green as they had not been when last she was here, she saw they needed a dedicated gardener. She was that, she would be that. Here.

  He thrust open the little blue cottage door and turned to pull her over the threshold and into the space. In her peripheral vision, she could tell not much had changed since she’d been here.

  “Tell me you want me here to tend the roses,” she beseeched him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her mouth seeking his. “Tell me I may stay to tend to us.”

  He caught her up in his arms and strode with her to the bed. There, he laid her down and began to divest her of her buttons and bows, opening her bodice to his gaze and his hands and his lips.

  The power of his kisses on her breasts, the way he sucked her into his mouth had her arching into him, yearning for more. His hands pushed up her skirt, and when he caressed the bare skin of her thighs, he growled in delight. “Promise me you will never change.”

  “Never grow old? No. Never stop loving you? Never.”

  His fingers found her mound, invaded her core and stroked her deeply. “Promise me you will never go anywhere without me.”

  “Never again.”

  He leaned up to smile slowly, though tears stood in his eyes. “Never stop seeing your Turk.”

  She laughed, tracing a fingertip over his bottom lip. “Come with me. Watch what he does.”

  “I fear, my darling, if I did,” he whispered as lowered himself to put his mouth to her very wet cunny lips, “I would kill him.”

  “Not you,” she chuckled but cried out as Justin spread her swollen lips open and darted his tongue to her clitoris and flicked it to madness. “Promise me you will dismiss your mistress.”

  “I never had one.”

  “No!” She pushed at him as he laughed. “You spread that word around London to make me jealous?”

  “To torment you, yes.”

  “You devil. Well,” she said as she undulated to his touch, “you will never take one now.”

  “What time would I have for one,” he countered as he undid his flies and in one swift drive, possessed her to the hilt, “if I am forever making love to you?”

  Her nails dug in his flesh. She bared her teeth as he began to stroke her with his thick and ready cock. “I shall make it a requirement that you are with me at every ball.”

  He took one of her breasts in his mouth and sucked her high and hard. “To every ‘at home’ and wedding breakfast.”

  “In every butler’s pantry and library we can find,” she teased.

  He cupped her face, grinned at her and pumped her once more, sending hot rivers of delight through her body. “Including our own.”

  “We shall scandalize the ton.”

  “And everyone shall have on their lips tales of Countess Belmont’s Risqué Business.”

  “That business now will be to please only you,” she promised as he surged inside her.

  “How easy that will be, my darling,” he declared as he possessed her to the hilt and held, “Merely tell me that you love me and you will never leave my side.”

  “The easiest promise I have ever made, my love. The easiest and the happiest.”

  About the Author

  Cerise DeLand believes great romances match feisty women with one—or more—men who cannot live without them. And Cerise knows men—all types of them from living in Italy, England, Japan, New York, Washington—and wild west Texas! She blends that intimate knowledge with a passion for European and Chinese art and travel to delightful lands she loves to write about.

  An award-winning author, Cerise has also penned 18 print romances and mysteries (under another name), many of which have been selections of The Doubleday Book Club and The Mystery Guild. And what does this prolific author do when she’s not writing? Ah. She is an excellent cook. To taste and prepare a few of her delicacies, do come to her blog, especially on Thursdays for her Afternoon Delights, elegant simple refreshments to serve after your rendezvous! http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com

  The Stanhope Challenge Series by Cerise DeLand

  Now Available at Resplendence Publishing

  Lord Stanhope’s Improper Proposal

  Lord Adam Stanhope faces the Stanhope Challenge of wanting to marry...and knowing it will be loveless and tormenting. But he takes one look at his childhood friend, now a lovely widow, and proposes a marriage in name only. But when he learns that his bride is determined to be his lover as well as his wife, he faces a bigger challenge: Accept her delicious offer to delight them both in bed or spend his life in a greater torment...alone.

  Lady Featherstone’s Fervent Affair

  Willful Lady Lacy Featherstone knows how the lack of love can warp a person’s life. When her dashing fiancé, Colonel Wesley Stanhope retreats to his hunting lodge after a devastating cavalry injury in Spain, she sweeps into Wes’s hideaway with a scandalous proposal. Wes will make her his wife or she’ll make him her lover. But if Lacy cannot conquer the Hero of Talavera with logic and kisses, how risqué must she become to prove that she is his equal in fortitude…and the only one worthy to grace his bed?

  Bonus! This title includes a free read, Lady Ramsey's Ribald Choices. Don't miss this additional installment to the Stanhope Challenge series!

  Miss Darling’s Indecent Offer

  Emma Darling needs a protector and when she appeals to Jack Stanhope, she knows that the noted rake has never wished for a wife. That’s fine by Emma, who wants a husband--and not just in name--but only for little while.

  Jack is keen to avoid the bad luck that plagues Stanhope marriages, but this gamin beauty rouses his protective instincts and his satyr’s hunger. Can he escape their temporary marriage and a few, blissful weeks of carnal delight with his heart intact? Or will taking her to his bed ruin each of them for any other lover?

  The Bastard’s Passionate Prize

  When American merchantman Mark Stanhope, the bastard of the Stanhope clan, falls for stunning noblewoman Sirena Maxwell, she is already promised to another man. Mark's only hope to ease his wounded heart is the familiar comfort of the open ocean. That comfort is short-lived, for he finds her stowed away aboard his ship, and the high seas are no place for lady.

  Engaged to the vile Colin de Ros, Sirena fears for her life and runs to the only man who can keep her safe: Mark Stanhope. She will sacrifice everything to make him her husband: her title, her family...her good name. When they are blown off course and taken hostage, she must surrender her body, her virtue and her desire to set them both free from the seraglio of a ruthless Barbary pirate.

  If Mark cannot find a way to save Sirena's gorgeous body only for himself, then he must put her on display for these salacious brutes. Can their love survive the depravities of the Barbary pirate's court? Or will their passions enslave them both forever?

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  Arizona Heat Series, Book Three

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