Forbidden: Her British Stepbrother

by Smith, Lauren

  “Why do I sense that my acting ‘like royalty’ isn’t a compliment?”

  Kat shrugged a shoulder. “Whatever you say, my lord .”

  He stroked her body beneath the covers, enjoying the feel of her, pressed skin-to-skin with him. “I’ll be an earl one day. It’s not royalty, but it is the peerage.”

  “The peerage,” she echoed in a British accent and giggled again. The sound was infectious, and it made him laugh, too.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Kat, eyes still closed, hugged him a little tighter. “I’ll tell you in the morning.” She was so close to sleep, he didn’t have the heart to keep her awake.

  “All right, darling. Sweet dreams.” He kissed her brow and held her as she drifted to sleep.

  Tristan wasn’t tired, and for some reason, he was perfectly content to hold Kat and count the faint freckles on her shoulders. He wanted to memorize the sight of her pert little nose and her long dark lashes. He didn’t wish to be anywhere else or with anyone else.

  What the bloody hell is happening to me?

  Chapter 17

  K at sat in the back of the cab, clutching her duffle bag, backpack, and cell phone. As the driver pulled onto a side street in London’s West End, she checked her messages. Tristan had been texting her most of the morning.

  Miss you, kitty Kat. Wish you were with me now so I could make you purr.

  With a little grin she tapped back.

  I miss you too, especially your bed.

  It would’ve been hard to be so teasing and intimate with someone else, but it was easy with Tristan, especially after everything they’d shared and done. He made it so easy to have fun and act a little reckless.

  His response was immediate.

  Fuck, darling. I’m trying to be on my best behavior and you’re making it hard. I have to meet my mother’s boyfriend. He’ll be here soon. Seems like we’re both meeting our new families today. I’ll text you when I have a chance.

  Grinning happily, she waited a few minutes as the driver made a U-turn to pull up before a row of town houses.

  The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

  “This is it, miss.”

  She handed him a few pound notes to cover the cab fare and stepped out onto the pavement in front of a large, expensive-looking town house. The frosted windows glittered with Christmas lights and tinsel. The pavement leading to the front door was meticulously cleared of snow.

  Her father was somewhere inside this house with his new girlfriend. For a brief moment, new strength surged into her. After spending a wonderful night with Tristan only a day ago, she felt strangely…brave. As though she could conquer the world. Including meeting the woman who had won her father’s heart.

  Gripping her coat tightly, she shivered from the cold. Memories of Tristan’s kisses, his sweet, whispered words from the night before, warmed her anew. She would carry those memories with her like a shield into battle. It wasn’t easy thinking of the possibility of a stepmother, but knowing Tristan wanted her, cared about her, made her feel a little less alone and able to face what was to come. And soon, she would see him again, perhaps while he, too, was in London for the holidays.

  Her phone buzzed again and she swung her bag over her shoulder, tugged one of her gray mittens off with her teeth, and tapped the screen. It was a text from Tristan.

  Kat…we have to talk .

  His words made a responding flutter of nerves in her belly.

  What’s the matter?

  But he didn’t respond to the text. Kat stared at the phone for a second longer. She couldn’t delay meeting her dad and his girlfriend. Whatever Tristan had to tell her would have to wait, even if the thought of what he might say would be bad. No one ever started out a good conversation with “We have to talk.” But she couldn’t worry about that, not until she got through this meet-and-greet with her dad.

  God, this was going to be so awkward.

  “Katherine!” Her father met her at the sidewalk leading up to the town house and swung her duffle bag over his shoulder.

  It took a moment to adjust to the sight of her father. The man she’d left on the bus station platform when she’d gone to Cambridge four months ago had been stiff, in a suit, his face lined with stress and fatigue. The man who embraced her now was in jeans and a sweater, smiling like an idiot. He looked almost a decade younger. The fine lines about his eyes and mouth had almost faded, and he was striding with such energy toward her that she almost didn’t believe it was him.

  “Honey, I’ve got big news. I wanted to tell you myself before you meet Lizzy.”

  Her stomach clenched. “Tell me what?”

  Her father’s grip on her shoulders tightened a little, and his smile faded as he grew serious.

  “I know this feels sudden, but I’ve given it a lot of thought, and so has Lizzy. I’ve asked her to marry me, and she’s said yes.” Her father waited, expecting a response, but all Kat could manage was to sputter one word.

  “What?” They both knew she’d heard him, but it was too much too soon. “You’re engaged?”

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’ll like her. And her son. You’ll have a new stepbrother. Won’t that be fun? You’ve always wanted a sibling.”

  Stepbrother? Was he kidding? She didn’t want a stepbrother. She didn’t want a stepmother. She just wanted things to go back to the way they were.

  Something in her eyes must have warned him that she was on the verge of breaking apart into a thousand pieces because he said, “I know this is upsetting, honey. I meant to ask her to marry me after I talked to you first, but last night we were alone and having dinner and I just…” He shrugged. “It felt right.” Her dad pulled her into a hug. “Please, honey. I know this is a lot to process. Just put on a smile for me and after I introduce you, I’ll show you to the guest room Lizzy picked out for you, okay?” He drew back to look at her.

  She wanted to run and hide, and there was no doubt he knew it because he was her father and they’d always been close. Just the way she knew that he was truly happy with this woman and that he deserved to be loved.

  With a little jerk of a nod, she forced a smile. “I’m happy for you, Dad. Really.”

  A butler met them at the front door and took Kat’s duffle from her father’s arms.

  “Ms. Roberts? Your other bag?” The man pointed at her backpack.

  “Kat, this is Mr. Jeremy. The butler.”

  “Hello.” Kat greeted the middle-aged man who gave her a polite but distant smile.

  Lizzy has an honest-to-God butler? How rich is this woman?

  Mr. Jeremy nodded. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Roberts.”

  “Please call me ‘Kat’ or ‘Katherine,’” she said. The look of horror on his face almost made her laugh.

  “Let the poor man alone,” her father teased, and handed the backpack over to Mr. Jeremy.

  “It was nice to meet you.” Kat watched the servant toddle off with her bags. She and her father had had a cook when they lived in Chicago and a housekeeper who cleaned during the day. But Kat wasn’t used to having live-in staff like butlers.

  “Come on. Lizzy and her son are just in here. I haven’t met him yet. I wanted to wait for you to get here.” Her father stopped in front of a mahogany door with a lovely gilded handle. It creaked in protest before the door opened.

  “Lizzy, sweetheart, Kat’s here.” Her father put an arm around her shoulder as they entered the room.

  It was a drawing room, with warm blue walls painted with yellow flowers, beneath white crown molding trimming the ceiling. A marble fireplace directly opposite the door was bright with a roaring fire.

  A man stood with his back to her, one hand braced on the mantel. He had to be Lizzy’s son. Something about the way he stood, his dark hair was…familiar. When she tried to get a closer look, a tall, blonde woman who’d been standing close by the door suddenly moved to block Kat’s sight of him.

  “It’s so nice to finally
meet you! You’re father has told me so much about you. Is it all right if I call you ‘Kat’?” Lizzy’s beaming smile was infectious.

  “Yeah, ‘Kat’s fine. It’s nice to meet you.” She froze for a second when Lizzy hugged her, then relaxed at how nice it felt. She was in awe of the woman’s natural beauty and warmth. No wonder her father was taken with her.

  “Please call me ‘Lizzy,’” she said. “And I’d like you to meet my son.” She stepped aside and pointed to where the man stood, still facing the fire. Again that eerie sense that she knew him, that he was familiar to her…but how could that be? She’d never met Lizzy or her son.

  “Tristan, come here and meet your future stepsister.”

  Tristan?

  The name stopped all brain communication to Kat’s body. She froze.

  The man by the fire, the one in black trousers and a gray sweater, turned to gaze at her with fathomless blue-green eyes.

  The world suddenly tilted and spun around her and she couldn’t breathe. Black spots dotted her vision until she sucked in a lungful of air.

  The man she thought she’d recognized from behind was Tristan. Her Tristan.

  This couldn’t be happening to her. Life was too cruel to give her something as wonderful as him and steal it away.

  Tristan Kingsley, the sexiest, naughtiest man she’d ever known, the man she’d just shared mind-blowing sex with, was going to be her stepbrother?

  Holy shit.

  Please see the next page for a preview of Seduction

  Chapter 1

  B loody Hell.

  Tristan Kingsley was in a dark spiral. Anger and confusion raged beneath his skin like wildfires. Elizabeth Harlow, his mother, had ripped his world asunder. She’d told him, “I’m engaged to Clayton Roberts, and he’s bringing his daughter, your future stepsister, to meet us right now.”

  His mother’s engagement wasn’t the worst part of the whole situation. No, the fucking demons in hell were laughing at him for the ironic twist his destiny had just taken. Because five minutes ago, Katherine Roberts had walked through the door with her father, Clayton.

  My Kat . The girl he’d ruthlessly pursued and sweetly seduced until she’d succumbed and let him take her to bed. The girl he’d fucked so hard she’d had trouble walking the next morning. The girl he’d opened up to about things he’d never shared with anyone. And he still hadn’t had enough of her to satisfy his obsession.

  My stepsister. Future stepsister . And they’d rammed his headboard into his wall two nights ago so hard, it had left gouges in his wallpaper. Why the hell that thought made him instantly hard, he didn’t know. He’d had rough, wild sex before, but with her…She’d been so innocent, a bloody virgin, but she’d responded like sex goddess…

  Can’t think about her anymore. How her body felt underneath me—skin-to-skin. How perfect she tasted. How she screamed out my name when I exploded inside of her…

  Kat hadn’t moved from the doorway to the library of his mother’s town house. The moment she’d come in the door and recognized him she’d frozen. Her face pale, her lips pursed, and her gray eyes as wide as saucers. She hadn’t known this was coming, just as he hadn’t.

  It was a bloody nightmare.

  They’d both left Cambridge separately for their Christmas holidays, facing the same situation. His mother had told him she was dating someone, and Kat’s father had told her the same. Neither he nor Kat could have guessed that their parents had met in London and started dating. Or gotten engaged. It was a strange, and now damnable coincidence. Of all the eligible men in London his mother could have met and fallen in love with, it had to be Kat’s father?

  At twenty-five years old, while working toward his Master’s in business, Tristan could afford little time for distractions, aside from the string of nameless girls he’d slept with before Kat. He had classes, and the pressures of his father’s estate looming over him. That was the price he had to pay for being the future Earl of Pembroke.

  Until he’d walked into the Pickerel Inn pub one night outside Magdalene College, and his world had changed forever. Kat, the luscious, intoxicating first-year undergraduate student had walked up to the bar for a drink, and they’d talked, and something seemed to pull them together, like invisible strings. She’d leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him. The way she’d felt in his arms, her lips melding with his…In an instant he’d gone from a man who could have any woman he wanted, to a man who wanted only her. She was only nineteen, and so inexperienced, yet he wanted to drag her back to his bed and never let her leave until he’d shown her everything he knew about the art of sexual pleasure.

  My obsession, my erotic fantasy. Mine. All mine.

  At least she had been until his mum had blown his plans to hell with the news that Kat was going to be his stepsister. It was bad enough she was American and completely unsuitable in any true sense, given his position in society. But as a sister, a family relation, she’d be untouchable. Their parents simply wouldn’t allow it. And if the paparazzi ever got wind of his affair with Kat, his father would have him executed in the square of the Tower of London just to make a point. Well not really, but he’d devise some scheme of punishment that would leave Tristan begging for a quick death at the Tower.

  I ought to get out of here before I make an arse of myself.

  But he couldn’t. He’d promised his mother he’d stay here for the holidays and he wouldn’t go back on his word.

  How was he going to survive three weeks with Kat under his roof and not touch her?

  The problem was, he wanted to be around her. Clayton and his mother would be watching them closely to see how they handled the news of the engagement. If their parents discovered any hint that something existed between him and Kat, that wouldn’t be good.

  He’d had his share of affairs with unsuitable girls, but sleeping with his stepsister, an American no less, would be a scandal he’d likely not recover from in the social arenas of London But he didn’t care. Tristan wanted Kat, had to have her.

  “Tristan, don’t be rude. Stop sulking by the fireplace, come over here and say hello,” his mother hissed in admonishment just loud enough for him to hear.

  He walked over to Kat and held out a hand, pretending they’d never met, never touched, never shared his bed exploring each other’s bodies. It was harder than he expected to resist reacting to her. He smiled politely, fighting off the urge to chuckle when her pale cheeks blossomed with color.

  She must be remembering, as he was, how it felt when he’d pinned her down and made her beg for him to do a thousand dirty, erotic things to her. And he had, oh, he had. And that was making it so hard to keep from reacting with the intimacy he desired. There would be no scorching kiss, no stroking of hands. Not while their parents watched them with hawk-like precision.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Katherine.” He sucked in a breath as she slowly took his hand and shook it. Sparks of heat burst between their palms, that undeniable chemistry that drew him like a planet orbiting a star. Cosmic, inescapable.

  She seemed to be trapped in a daze. Her gray eyes were full of desire, but he could see she was trying to suppress it all.

  “Hi,” she said finally. He could tell by her ashen face that she was only going to get out one word and nothing else. Her full lips quivered, and he longed to haul her into his arms and kiss her, perhaps bite those lips playfully until she smiled again.

  Why wasn’t she like every other girl he’d slept with? They were forgotten the moment they’d left his bed. A parade of pretty faces and nothing more. But he knew every freckle on Kat’s face, every curve of her tempting body, how her mouth felt as she’d explored his skin, eager, and yet new to the experience of sex. How could he ever forget being with her?

  They were both damned now.

  “I’ll show Katherine to a guest room. You and Clayton can plan the evening while I see her settled,” Tristan offered, needing, hoping for one minute alone with Kat away from parental gazes.

  “E
xcellent idea, Tristan.” His mother’s beaming face made his body flood with a dark tide of guilt.

  All he wanted was to get Kat away from them so he could talk to her. They needed a plan. Neither of their parents could ever find out they’d been fucking like a pair of rabbits. It could wreck his mother’s relationship with Clayton if the man took it too personally that his sweet young daughter was being shagged down the hall by his future stepson.

  That wouldn’t go over well. While Tristan openly admitted that he didn’t like the idea of her remarrying, he certainly didn’t want her heart broken again.

  “Follow me, Katherine.” He almost reached for her hand, but caught himself just inches from her wrist. Pulling back his arm, he forced himself to keep his distance.

  “Thank you, Tristan.” Kat’s father smiled, too, curling an arm around Lizzy’s waist.

  Tristan swallowed hard and nodded, but didn’t linger. He didn’t want to endure public displays of affections involving his mother.

  Kat followed him out of the drawing room, closing the door behind her. The second the door was shut he reached for her hand, wild inside with the need to touch her. He knew they shouldn’t continue this…whatever was between them, but right now as he held her hand, none of that mattered.

  To hell with the world, to hell with our parents. I want her.

  “Tristan,” she whispered, her breath catching as he pulled her down the hall to the stairs that led to the upper floors.

  “This way.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked as they climbed the steps.

  “Somewhere we can talk,” he muttered and tugged her into the nearest guest bedroom.

  The instant they were alone inside the room, he shoved her against the closed door and gave in to his instincts. Kissing her hard, he unleashed an explosion of lust and need that had made him hard the moment she’d walked into the drawing room. He delved into her mouth seeking her tongue, and she met him boldly, her lips just as eager. He caught her wrists and jerked them above her head, pinning them with one hand.