“Yer a vision,” Margot sighed, putting the final touches on Christy’s hair. “Yer sure to dazzle that scoundrel ye married. Make him fall in love with ye, Christy. ‘Twould serve the devil right.”
“I don’t want Sinjun’s love,” Christy argued. “Just his bairn.”
Margot sent her a sharp look. “Just make sure ye dinna fall in love with him, lass.”
“Fear not, Margot. My heart is well guarded against the likes of men like Lord Sin.”
Margot left shortly afterward to await Sinjun’s arrival. When Christy heard the rumble of Sinjun’s voice below stairs a short time later, her heart did a curious flip-flop. She had anticipated his arrival all day, and now that the moment had come she felt all aflutter with excitement. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything for Sinjun, she berated herself. The rake had tupped half the women in London without a thought for the wife he had deserted.
Then the door opened and Margot stepped inside the room. “He’s here, Christy. Are ye ready?”
Christy dragged in a sustaining breath and nodded as she moved past Margot into the hall. She saw Sinjun waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, looking so breathtakingly handsome she forgot to breathe. She saw the swift appraisal and fierce look of desire that hardened his face and knew she pleased him. When his sensual mouth curved into a smile, she renewed her vow to harden her heart against him lest she lose it.
Apparently not content to wait for her at the bottom of the stairs, Sinjun sprinted halfway up to meet her. He offered his arm, and they descended together. When they reached the bottom, Christy gave a squeal of surprise when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. After thoroughly exploring her mouth, he set her away from him and gave her a cheeky grin.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I couldn’t wait. I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.” He threaded her arm in his. “Do you have a wrap?”
Margot appeared from the dark reaches of the house with a fringed shawl and half mask. Sinjun draped the shawl over her shoulders and handed her the mask. Then he ushered her to his carriage and handed her inside. He sat beside her, so close that his masculine scent enveloped her in a sensual haze. She sniffed appreciatively of his cologne and that underlying musky odor she remembered so well from the previous night, and knew it would linger in her memory long after they parted.
“You look good enough to eat,” Sinjun whispered, pulling her into the curve of his body. “Tonight I’m going to taste you all over. You’re the most tempting morsel I’ve ever had the privilege to meet, sweet Flora. I predict a long and mutually satisfying association.”
“Until I return to Cornwall,” Christy reminded him. “I cannot stay in town forever. My … husband expects me back home.”
“Aye, with a babe in your belly. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her cheek.
Christy offered no response. Fortunately there was no need, for the coach had pulled up in line to let them out at the Ravensdales’ spacious town-house. Christy put on her mask and waited for the coachman to lower the stairs. Sinjun exited first and helped her down.
“I can’t wait to show you off,” he murmured as they entered the commodious hall and ascended the stairs to the ballroom. “I’ll be the envy of the ton tonight.”
They paused in the doorway. Christy felt like a fish out of water as everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at her. Discreet, and some not so discreet, whispers followed them as Sinjun introduced her to their host and hostess. Christy had attended several public dances since arriving in town, but this was her first event given by members of the ton. Just being in the same room with so many English swine stuck in her craw. How she wished she were back home at Glenmoor, roaming the hills and glens and riding free and wild into the wind on her favorite mare.
Unfortunately she couldn’t conceive an heir for Glenmoor in Scotland. And in order to meet and seduce Sinjun, she had to travel in the same circles.
Sinjun led her out onto the dance floor, and afterward they joined the throng of people at the buffet table.
“There’s Julian,” Sinjun said, waving to a tall, handsome man who had just entered the room. “Lord Mansfield is my older brother. He’s rather dour but a likeable sort.” Christy stared at the man rapidly approaching them and felt a moment of panic. She would have fled had she not been so conspicuous. If he recognized her, all was lost.
“Sinjun, I feared I wouldn’t find you in this crush of people.”
“Where’s Emma?”
“She and Amelia Ravensdale went off together to exchange gossip. Will you introduce me to your … friend?”
“Of course. Julian, meet Lady Flora Randall. Flora, this is my brother, Lord Mansfield. Don’t mind his scowl, he always looks like that.”
Head bowed, Christy dropped a curtsey. She remembered Sinjun’s brother very well. She prayed he wouldn’t recognize her with her mask on. “My lord.”
Julian’s scowl deepened. “Do I know you, my lady? Something about you is vaguely familiar.”
“I’m sure we’ve never met, my lord.”
“Odd that you should say that, Julian. I had the same feeling the first time I saw Lady Flora.”
“Please excuse me, my lords,” Christy said, anxious to escape Julian’s intense scrutiny. She touched Sinjun’s arm. “I wish to repair my hair.” She hurried off toward the powder room.
“She certainly is a beauty,” Julian said, staring after her. “There’s something about her—”
“I thought the same thing, Julian, but I would have remembered had I met her before. Besides, this is her first visit to town.”
“Don’t introduce her to Emma,” Julian warned. “It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Don’t worry, Julian. I know what’s proper and what isn’t. I wouldn’t dream of introducing Emma to my mistress.”
Christy entered the powder room, relieved to find it empty. Appearing in public as Sinjun’s mistress was devastating to her ego. He should be introducing her as his countess, not his lover. But she had made her choice and must now accept the consequences.
Chapter 4
Christy removed her mask and rubbed her temples. Meeting Sinjun’s brother had been nerve-wracking. She’d wanted the evening to end so she could go home. Heaving a sigh, she realized she couldn’t hide in the powder room forever. But as she settled her mask in place, the door opened, admitting two young women, one blond, one brunette. They were laughing and giggling like schoolgirls, loudly lamenting the lack of attractive, mature men and commenting on the Season’s offering of young suitors who had little to commend them.
Suddenly the brunette spied Christy and sent her a brilliant smile. Christy sucked in a startled breath, for the lovely young woman had the most remarkable violet eyes she had ever seen.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” the brunette said, offering Christy her hand. “I’m Emma Thornton, and this is my friend, Amelia Ravensdale.”
Sinjun’s sister! Though Christy realized she was treading in dangerous waters, she couldn’t help responding to the young woman’s friendly overture.
“I’m Chris, er, Flora Randall.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Lady Flora Randall! I’ve heard of you but never had the pleasure to meet you. You’re very beautiful. Amelia and I came out last year,” she revealed. “We were just discussing the paucity of interesting men this year.” She sighed. “I suppose I compare all men to my brothers, and none of them can hold a candle to either Julian or Sinjun. Do you know them, Lady Flora?”
Christy felt certain Emma had no idea she was here tonight as Sinjun’s mistress. She’d be content if Emma never found out. “I believe I’ve met your brothers.”
“Are you here with your husband, Lady Flora?” Emma asked.
Was there no end to Lady Emma’s curiosity?
“I … no, he’s not well. If you and Lady Amelia will excuse me, I must return to my … friends.”
“Perhaps we’ll run into eac
h other again,” Emma said.
“Perhaps,” Christy replied, having every intention of avoiding Sinjun’s sister the rest of the evening. She adjusted her mask and left the powder room.
Sinjun was waiting for her. He wasn’t alone. “Ah, there you are,” he said, grasping her arm in a proprietary manner. “I don’t believe you’ve met my friend, Lord Blakely. Rudy, this is Lady Flora Randall.”
Rudy gave Christy an arrested look, then bowed over her hand. “Though we haven’t met, I’ve heard nothing but praises about you from Sinjun.”
I’ll bet, Christy thought. “’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Lord Blakely.”
“Would you allow me to dance with your lady, Sinjun?” Rudy asked.
Sinjun frowned. “Perhaps another time, Rudy. I was just about to lead Flora onto the dance floor myself. If you’ll excuse us…”
Though the words weren’t meant for her ears, Christy heard Rudy whisper to Sinjun, “Lucky dog. Lord Sin always keeps the best for himself.”
Christy tried not to let the words affect her, for she knew Lord Blakely wasn’t alone in believing she was simply an adornment on Sinjun’s arm. Being paraded around as a mistress and not a wife was degrading. But Christy knew it was her penance for lying to Sinjun.
Sinjun’s patience was wearing thin. Every man in the room was staring at Flora as if she were a sweetmeat waiting to be devoured. He couldn’t wait to get her alone. Flora was going to be devoured, all right, by him. His need for the copper-haired beauty was consuming every minute of every day. It left him reeling, without direction, and it wasn’t a feeling he enjoyed.
After the midnight buffet he suggested that they leave. His eyes darkened with irrepressible desire when she appeared as eager to leave as he.
“Wait here,” Sinjun said as he retrieved Christy’s cloak and draped it over her shoulders, “while I summon the coach.”
Sinjun was gone only a few minutes, but when he returned to usher Lady Flora outside, he saw Julian and Emma approaching. He knew how Julian felt about introducing his mistress to his sister, so he tried to hurry Flora out the door and into the coach. It wasn’t to be, however. Emma hailed Sinjun before he could hand Flora into the coach.
“Sinjun! Were you going to leave without greeting your sister?” She sent Julian an exasperated look. “Why didn’t you tell me Sinjun was here?”
Sinjun cursed beneath his breath. There was no help for it. He had to stop and speak to Emma despite Julian’s blistering scowl.
“Hello, Emma. You look ravishing tonight.”
She dropped a curtsy. “Why, thank you, kind sir. And you are far too handsome for your own good.”
“Come along, Emma,” Julian said, attempting to push her toward their own coach.
Emma shrugged free. “I’m not through talking to Sinjun.” Her gaze slid around to Christy. “Why, Lady Flora, we meet again. I didn’t know you were here with my brother. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Sinjun’s eyes narrowed as he swung around to confront Christy. “You know my sister?”
“Of course,” Emma said, forestalling Christy’s answer. “We met in the powder room. I must say, Sinjun, your taste is improving. Lady Violet wasn’t at all your style.”
“That’s enough, Emma,” Julian said reprovingly. “It isn’t proper for unmarried young ladies to be so outspoken.”
“Oh, pish, Julian. If you weren’t so serious all the time you’d be as popular as Sinjun.”
Julian rolled his eyes. “God forbid. Nevertheless, I insist that we leave now. Perhaps Sinjun will come around for a visit soon.” It was a direct command, one Sinjun couldn’t ignore.
“Of course I’ll visit soon, Emma,” Sinjun said, “if I can wade through the throng of suitors beating down your door.”
“Forget the suitors,” Emma said. “I don’t give a hoot about any of them. Please come soon, Sinjun. And bring Lady Flora.”
“He’ll come alone,” Julian said sternly.
Sinjun cursed beneath his breath. The meeting was unfortunate. Emma was a mischievous little imp, and far too inquisitive. He should have known she’d find a way to meet his new mistress.
“I’m sorry,” Sinjun said as he handed Christy into the coach. “Julian considers himself the family’s conscience. He didn’t want Emma to meet you. You do understand, don’t you?”
“It’s all right, my lord. I understand. Emma must be protected from Lord Sin’s excesses. I suspect Emma knows more than either you or your brother give her credit for. Lord Sin’s exploits are the talk of the ton. How could she not know?”
Sinjun flinched. Though true, Flora’s words gave him pause for thought. She considered him unprincipled, a man without morals. He wouldn’t call himself a model of decorum, but he did have morals, dictated by his own personal code. Perhaps his decadent ways were common knowledge, but why should he change when his lifestyle fit him perfectly?
“Forget Emma,” Sinjun said as the coach lurched forward. “Do you know how very much I want you? I’m not sure flaunting you in public is a good idea. There wasn’t a man present tonight who didn’t wish he were in my shoes.”
He pulled her against him, smiling when she dutifully raised her head for his kiss. He stared a moment at her full lips, then took her mouth with his. She tasted so sweet he couldn’t stop the groan that rose in his throat. Never had a woman gotten under his skin so quickly. He couldn’t wait. He wanted her, and he wanted her now. His hand slid beneath her skirts, raising them high as his hand skimmed along her leg.
“Sinjun! What are you doing?”
“What I’ve wanted to do all evening. Don’t worry, I told the coachman to take the long way home. Spread your sweet thighs for me, sweetheart. I need to touch you.”
Christy’s breath seemed suspended. She couldn’t move her eyes from his face. She could almost hear her blood pounding through her veins; every sense seemed intensified, and yet she was aware of little beyond the small, enclosed place that held the two of them. Sinjun required things of her she’d always considered wicked. She knew he was wild, hedonistic, unpredictable, but making love in a traveling coach was beyond anything she had imagined. Closing her mind to the very improper behavior Sinjun demanded of her, Christy realized a mistress would be eager to acquiesce to her lover’s whims, no matter how improper. She spread her thighs.
Sinjun’s hand slid up her stocking-clad leg past the garter. His hand found her, and she jerked in response. Something very strange was happening, and once again she felt the disorienting sensation of losing control of her senses. It was not at all what she was supposed to feel for her womanizing husband.
“You’re already hot and wet for me,” he whispered against her lips. “I have to have you, Flora.” He raised her skirts to bare her thighs and shifted away to release his rigid staff. His member sprang free, and he pulled her astride him. “Ride me, sweetheart.”
Christy rose slightly and impaled herself; the feeling of him sliding inside her was pure bliss. She arched her body and took him deeper. He gripped her bottom, his hands kneading, caressing, urging her to take even more of him. Her body drifted apart from her mind, lost in a sensual haze of pleasure. Excitement raced through her. A sudden jolt of sensation wrung a strangled cry from her lips, brought forth from deep inside her by the man who didn’t know he was her husband. Then she knew no more.
When her wits reconnected with reality, she found herself lying on the seat with Sinjun leaning over her, his dark eyes inscrutable.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered as he hastily pushed down her skirts to cover her legs. “We’re almost home.”
With Sinjun’s help, Christy straightened her dress and patted her hair into place, relieved that Margot wouldn’t be up to remark on her dishevelment.
Sinjun exited the coach and handed her down. She wasn’t sure he intended to go inside until he followed her to the door and held his hand out for the key. She handed it to him and stood back while he opened the door. A moment later she found herself be
ing swept up into his arms and carried up the stairs. He entered her room and slammed the door with his boot heel. Then he set her on her feet, undressed her slowly, and made love to her again. Christy thought she had given her all in the coach, but their loving was as fierce as any storm, battering her senses and leaving her breathless. Afterward, she was more confused by her feelings than ever.
She was enjoying this far too much.
The following days and nights were surprisingly full. Since Sinjun never left until the sun rose high in the sky, Christy slept late. Sometimes he took her to the opera or theater, or riding in the park, but always they ended up in her bed. They ran into Julian a time or two. Stiff with disapproval, he usually acknowledged them with a cool nod but rarely spoke to them. She saw Emma only from afar, for Julian was careful to avoid them when he escorted his sister about.
Christy thoroughly enjoyed the operas and plays, even the rides through the park, but she abhorred the balls, routs, and dances. Sinjun seemed to recognize her reluctance to attend private functions and honored her unspoken wishes by escorting her upon occasions to public affairs.
Christy could not fault Sinjun’s attention to her. His faithfulness never wavered, which surprised her. Sinjun wasn’t known for his fidelity. As for herself, what she feared most was happening. Making love with Sinjun was the greatest pleasure she had ever known. She awaited his arrival each night with breathless anticipation, no matter that he had left her bed scant hours before.
Lust was a powerful emotion.
Christy knew Sinjun wasn’t the kind of man a woman could depend on. His very nature precluded a lasting relationship. Had he wanted a wife, he would have consummated their marriage years ago. Had she wanted an Englishman for a husband she would have done something about it long before now. What she wanted was freedom to do as she pleased without an interfering husband. And she wanted an heir for Glenmoor. If she were clever enough she could have everything she wanted. But at what cost? a voice inside her asked. Would her heart survive Lord Sin?
A Taste of Sin Page 6
