Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle

by Bronwyn Scott

  “That’s just it. I was thinking that I rather liked her. I’ve yet to meet a woman who strikes me so powerfully. She’s beautiful, passionate, witty, daring. I find myself wanting to know what she’ll do next. I only suggested we play piquet for clothing because I didn’t think she’d accept. Before I knew it, we were sitting there in our underwear.”

  “You don’t wear underwear,” Val corrected.

  “That’s why I lost. She’d already won the shirt off my back. I had to stop the game before she took my trousers.”

  St. Just stifled a laugh.

  “Shh. It’s not particularly funny.” Julian looked around to make sure they weren’t drawing undue stares.

  “It is when it’s you, my friend. You’ve had your way with every woman you’ve laid eyes on. These continental women have made it far too easy for you. You toss them aside after a week when someone new captures your meager attention span. Finally you’ve met a woman who challenges you, pushes you and apparently has the ability to best you. I like her already.”

  “She’s mine. You’ll have to get your own, maybe a pretty signorina in Italy,” Julian jested. But St. Just didn’t laugh. He looked away, glancing at a spot over Julian’s shoulder, pretending that his attention was caught by some activity at another table. Julian wasn’t fooled. In a fleeting moment of insight, he knew why St. Just avoided England. “Tell me about her,” Julian said quietly.

  “Who?” It was St. Just’s turn to be obtuse.

  “The woman who keeps you from England. The woman who holds your heart.”

  “It hardly matters anymore. She’s married to another. Her family needed more money than I had to offer.” Valerian shrugged and contemplated the dregs in his coffee cup. “A cautionary tale, my friend, about how little love matters and how little love can do in this world.”

  “I only said I liked her. I didn’t use the word love,” Julian protested. “I’m merely worried for her.”

  St. Just furrowed his brow. “Don’t be naive, Julian. She stole what amounts to diamonds from you. She’s not as pure as the driven snow. Don’t be taken in by her beauty alone.”

  “Whatever her usual game is, I think she’s in too deep this time. She’s working for Count di Brazzo. He’s the one who hired her to get the diamonds.”

  St. Just let out a low whistle. “That is deep. If she’s with di Brazzo then it means she’s done this before. He wouldn’t hire a novice. The count is known for his collection of rare gems. This new Europe has proven to be quite useful in expanding his collection, I hear.”

  Julian nodded. He knew precisely what St. Just was referring to. Many valuable items had gone missing in the political shake-ups since Europe was released from Napoleon’s grip. Small kingdoms had been eaten up by new borders, old kingdoms had been absorbed into larger nations. Other principalities had suffered internal revolts and monarchs had fled their thrones, fearing a similar outcome to the one in France. It was a perfect time for looting unprotected treasuries.

  Anyone with knowledge of those treasuries and skill in discreet removals would thrive. Julian’s own presence in Vienna was for that very reason. The Count di Brazzo was also such an individual. All reports indicated di Brazzo was without scruples and selfish to the core; a mean man all around. It did not sit well with Julian to know that Sophie DuPlessy, with her sunlight laughter and zest for life, did business with that sort of man. For that matter, he didn’t like the idea that she was in that sort of business at all.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve tarnished the image of your golden angel,” St. Just remarked on Julian’s prolonged silence.

  Julian shook his head. “I knew before this that she was not all she seemed. But that doesn’t help me make any more sense out of why she’d be involved in such a scheme. I have to figure out where she’ll be tonight. I’ll go back for the fakes when she goes out.” Julian rose.

  St. Just rose with him. “That shouldn’t be too hard to do. Just ask yourself where you would be if you were her.”

  Valerian’s parting comment caused Julian to maintain a quick pace home to his rooms in the Belvedere Quarter. If he was after those diamonds and he knew where they were, he’d simply go get them. When someone took what was yours, you were obliged to take it back, and Sophie DuPlessy had every right to feel the need for vindication.

  It wasn’t only that he wanted to protect the diamonds. If she took them, he’d steal them from her again. He was more concerned about protecting her from herself. She was in more danger in possession of the diamonds than she realized. Julian wouldn’t put it past the count to exterminate her after she produced the diamonds. A man like di Brazzo was careful. The count wouldn’t let Sophie live and risk her spreading the story of her heist.

  Julian picked up his pace. If he didn’t get to Sophie first, she was as good as dead. That prospect sat quite poorly with him for reasons he’d rather not examine for fear of the answer: after years of playful bedroom pursuits with no meaning, he’d finally fallen irrevocably and completely in love in the most unorthodox way with a most unsuitable woman for a man of his station—the brother of an earl.

  Chapter 7

  Sophie surveyed the large, airy rooms belonging to Julian Burke with a growing amount of frustration. The man had very little furniture in these rooms and that meant he’d been creative in where he’d hidden the diamonds. She didn’t have time for ‘creative.’ She’d sweetly cajoled the landlady, who was much nicer and blinder than her own, into letting her in, and she wanted to be long gone before the landlady told Julian she’d been here.

  She needed the diamonds desperately. Count di Brazzo’s messenger had returned late in the afternoon with a response. Di Brazzo would be glad to meet with her in the morning and collect the diamonds. He would bring the reward money with him.

  Sophie’s eyes ran over the painted blue walls decorated with gilt-trimmed panels in the Baroque style. These were expensive rooms. But then the Belvedere Quarter was an expensive part of town to live in. The quarter was built around the borders of Belvedere Palace, and several nobles wanting the status of living close to the royal family had made homes here in the previous century. The current archduke didn’t live at Belvedere but the coterie of ambassadors sent to Vienna by their nations found the old homes of nobles excellent residences for conducting their business and entertaining on a grand scale.

  Julian struck her as a man who desired the best. Finding that he lived in such exalted quarters did not surprise her. Discovering that he possessed little else beyond the elegant address did. The walls were empty of pictures that might hide a safe. The drawers of his Biedermeier-styled desk had turned up nothing. There’d been no sign of false bottoms in the drawers. She only had the bedroom left to check and she didn’t hold out much hope. She’d seen the bedroom on her initial walk through his lodgings. It held only a bed and a bureau. The little dressing room off the bedroom held strictly clothing.

  Sophie started with the bureau. She opened the top drawer and was immediately assailed by the smell of him. The spicy scent she’d come to associate with Julian rose from the lengths of cravat cloth neatly folded in the drawer. There was a carved wooden box in the drawer as well. Sophie opened it, acutely aware that she was invading someone’s privacy. There were no diamonds inside, only folded papers. Sophie quickly put the lid back on. Whatever was in those papers had nothing to do with her, and the less she knew about Julian personally the better off she was. Sophie ran her hands expertly across the back and bottom of the drawer, looking for a secret compartment.

  “They’re not in the bureau.”

  Sophie jumped and stifled a scream. Julian lounged against the door frame, acting as if he’d been expecting to find her going through his personal things all along. Did nothing ruffle this dratted man? “You startled me,” she scolded.

  Julian gave his low chuckle. “I startled you? Have you forgotten these are my rooms? You’re not supposed to be here.”

  Julian entered the room and started pacing. He ema
nated restless energy, and for the first time Sophie noticed the little details about him; his hair was mussed, his boots were dusty and caked with dirt in places, as if he’d run in them. A slight film of sweat glistened on his brow.

  Julian stopped at the long window and looked out into the courtyard garden below. “Sophie, we have to talk.”

  Those words confirmed her suspicions. Julian had run here, had hoped to find her here. It was unnerving to think the man knew her so well.

  “Please, sit down.” Julian gestured toward the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room that would accommodate the action of sitting. “Sophie, you can’t have the diamonds,” he began once she was settled on the big four-poster.

  Some of the tension went out of her. He’d seemed so serious. She’d thought for a moment something important had happened, but it was still the same conversation they’d been having since this morning. “You disappoint me, Julian. I thought you’d have something original to say.” Sophie moved to slide off the bed.

  “Wait! This is not about you or me having the diamonds.” The force of his voice caused her to halt. “You’re in danger, Sophie. The moment you hand over those diamonds to di Brazzo is the moment you are dead.”

  That got her attention. “I think you’d better explain,” Sophie said quietly, resuming her place on the bed. Frankly, Julian’s words scared her. In many ways, retrieving the diamonds was the riskiest job she’d done. She hadn’t liked the count on first sight but the money he offered would be the making of her new life.

  Julian strode to the bed and reached for her hands. The warmth of his grip was reassuring. “Di Brazzo can’t risk you telling anyone about the jewels,” he explained softly.

  Julian was trying to be gentle. But she didn’t want gentle, not right now. She yanked her hands from his and moved off the bed. She knew Julian meant well and she was truly scared. But she was something else too. She was angry.

  In fact, she was angrier than she’d ever been in her life. She was angry at fate for letting her come so close to succeeding. She was angry at di Brazzo for not playing fairly—there was honor among thieves, and he should have honored the code of their dealings. Most of all, she was angry at herself. She should have gone with her initial instincts about di Brazzo. She should have seen di Brazzo’s secret plan from the start and stayed away.

  Sophie paced the room in long, determined strides, stopping occasionally to look about the chamber while she vented her anger. She’d come so close to succeeding. Now she wasn’t simply going to fail and fall short, she was going to die. Maybe not tomorrow if she could work a miracle. But she couldn’t outrun di Brazzo forever. She thought of the paste jewels back in her rooms. They would buy her some time, but they wouldn’t buy her enough. Still, if Julian was to be believed, di Brazzo would see her dead if she turned over the jewels. Convincing him the paste items were real was a moot point. She was dead if she stayed and dead if she ran. She stopped and surveyed the room again. Damn it. Just damn it.

  “What are you looking for?” Julian asked tentatively from the bed, where he’d had the good sense to stay, out of her way.

  “Something to throw,” Sophie ground out. She wanted to smash a nice, delicate porcelain shepherdess, but Julian’s rooms were as austere as they came. “What am I going to do?” Sophie sighed and went to the window, leaning against the sash and looking down into the park. Some of the fire had gone out of her anger. She had to resolve the crisis facing her. Anger couldn’t help with that.

  “Are we still looking for things to throw?” Julian swung off the bed and approached her.

  “No, I mean, what am I going to do about di Brazzo?” Sophie raked her hands through her hair.

  Julian drew her to him. “Correction, my dear. The question is what are we going to do. I will not let you face di Brazzo alone.”

  The pronouncement stunned her. This serious side of Julian was quite unexpected and so unlike the witty, careless rake who had played strip piquet with her just that morning, divesting her of her gown with no gentlemanly qualms. “Why would you help me?” Even in her desperation she was skeptical. Perhaps this was all an elaborate ploy to chase her out of town and keep the diamonds for himself.

  Julian smiled down at her. “Because somewhere between being thrown down on a sofa and losing the shirt off of my back, I’ve come to like you, my dear. These have been the best two days I’ve ever had.”

  Sophie laughed. “You’re a horrible sap, Julian.” But she pressed her head against his chest, her hands gripping the lapels of his coat. She let his arms wrap around her, enclosing her in their strength. For the moment, she was safe. For the moment, she had a champion. Julian Burke made her feel the closest she’d ever come to being invincible. Wrapped in his embrace, she could almost believe anything was possible.

  Julian’s member stirred against her skirts. With her cheek still on the fabric of his coat, Sophie smiled to herself. Nothing could be done about di Brazzo until tomorrow. This one last night was hers and she knew what she wanted. “Julian,” she said softly, turning her face up to his, “take me to bed.”

  A wolfish grin spread across his face. “My dear, I thought you’d never ask.”

  Julian shrugged out of his coat and reached for the buttons on his shirt, but Sophie stayed his hand. “Let me,” she whispered. “I wanted to do it this morning, but you were too quick.” Sophie made fast work of the buttons. She pushed back the shirt and let her breath catch. From the firmness of his upper chest to the sculpted planes of his abdomen, Julian was all male muscle and hardness, so exquisitely put together a sculptor would have difficulty doing any better. “Julian, you’re so beautiful.” She was awestruck, even though she’d seen his naked chest before. She imagined she’d never tire of that particular view. No wonder the women of Vienna could talk of nothing else but Julian Burke.

  “If you like this, wait until you see the rest,” Julian teased. He stepped away from her and pulled off his boots. She reveled in the flex and play of his muscles as they tugged off the dusty footwear.

  Julian’s hands went to his trousers and the atmosphere around them was serious again. The playfulness of a few moments ago had evaporated, replaced by a sensual tension. Sophie had never guessed a man disrobing could be this stimulating. When Julian came to her, he’d find her more than ready for him.

  His trousers were finally off. Julian kicked his feet out of them and strode toward the window to draw the curtain, treating her to an unadulterated view of him from all angles. His confidence in his own nakedness was a potent aphrodisiac. This was man who knew what a bedroom was for. She lay back on the pillows of the bed and waited.

  “Sophie, you’re trembling.” Julian sat on the side of the bed. He ran a hand under her skirts, searching for the garter that held her stockings, his touch feather-light as he skimmed her private places.

  “That’s your fault,” Sophie said, slightly more breathless than she’d have liked to have been. It was frightening how quickly he’d reduced her to a trembling pool of jelly and how much she liked it.

  “Sit up and let’s get this dress off you.” Julian deftly unfastened her gown in record time, petticoats and undergarments following their predecessor to the floor.

  Julian covered her, moving himself between her legs, and she welcomed him. There was no sense in any more games. They both knew what they wanted, perhaps they’d even known last night that such a moment was inevitable. His member nudged her entrance, testing, looking for assurances that she was ready. She was vaguely aware of his arm reaching out to the console beside the bed, searching for something. Then he drew back from her and fitted a sheath onto his sex, his eyes never leaving hers. She reached up and drew him back to her, settling him where she wanted him.

  This time, he didn’t nudge. This time, he slid into her and she took all of him, wrapping her legs about him, pushing him on to the very core of her being. Something inside her split and there was a momentary pain. Julian stilled and for an instant she feared he
would leave her. She clung to him with her legs, urging him to continue. He picked up the tantalizing rhythm again and she was lost to the pleasure of their united bodies.

  The tempo of their dance increased until the friction of his member against some secret part of her was too great for her to bear. Sophie screamed and shattered into a thousand pieces of satisfaction. Julian was with her in the kaleidoscope of sensation, voicing his own pleasure, her name on his lips.

  She lay in Julian’s arms, letting her body slow from its furious pace. Neither of them spoke. It was enough to feel his body against hers, to know from the racing of his heart that he was as shaken by the experience as she.

  After a while, Julian rose and went into the dressing room, returning with a basin of water and a washcloth. Sophie sat up, reaching for it. “Let me, Sophie,” Julian said softly, pushing her hands away. “Just lie down.”

  He washed her in gentle strokes, far more comfortable with the act than she was. Even after such intense lovemaking, Sophie was swamped with acute embarrassment over the intimate attentions of his bath.

  Julian set the basin and cloth aside and fixed her with a gray stare. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It didn’t seem important.” Sophie pulled a sheet up to cover herself. “I wanted you. That was all that mattered.” She hoped that would be reassuring to him. She had no expectations. In light of their situation, expectations seemed a bit ludicrous.

  “I am honored it was me you chose. It is no mean thing to be the recipient of a woman’s innocence. I am sorry I didn’t guess.”

  “Don’t be sorry. How could you have known? I gave you no reason to believe otherwise.” She knew virgins didn’t flirt outrageously or cup gentlemen through their trousers. But she did. Ironically, such shenanigans were probably the reason she’d been able to maintain her virginity for so long, given her line of work and the people she encountered. There had been other ways to satisfy them when the need arose.