by Tarah Scott
“What’s your pleasure, Lady Carr?” MacLaren’s gaze remained on her with such intensity, it made her lightheaded. He shuffled the cards. There was a sensual laziness to his movement that sent a wave of heat through her. “Whist?”
He was so young, so handsome. Did he intend to win a fortune with those attributes? Defensive now at how vulnerable she felt to those charms, she wondered just how sadly-to-let his pockets really were.
“I have been known to be quite lucky playing whist,” she said.
“You needn’t worry if I lose, my lady. My markers are good.” He dealt the cards.
She’d said the wrong thing—again.
The heat between them had definitely cooled.
Alice laughed. “Oh, Leslie, you are such a goose. Mr. MacLaren will not wager more than he can afford. He seems a most intelligent gentleman.”
MacLaren looked up from the cards and gifted Alice with a smile—the kind of smile that would heat the life’s blood of a woman in her crypt.
Leslie angled her head in agreement. “I am certain you are right.”
Was she being conciliatory or was she patronizing him? Both. His attention to Alice still pricked her. “I have seen pride bring a man to his knees at the card table.”
He turned back to Leslie, his visage so serious that for a moment he seemed years older. “Such tender concern for me, eh, Lady Carr?”
There was no tenderness or softness in his voice. Had she misread him? Was that seriousness? Or anger?
“I shouldn’t wish to encourage you to any vice,” Leslie said.
He smiled. Not the charming smile he’d given Alice. No, this one held a razor sharp edge. She couldn’t ascertain his emotion as those piercing blue eyes studied her.
“Perhaps we could make this more interesting. More…” His voice trailed off as his gaze lowered.
Was he looking at her breasts?
“Why don’t we play for the honor of your handkerchief?” he said.
“What?” she asked.
“Your handkerchief.”
She looked down and saw that she still held her handkerchief.
Chapter Four
Alice laughed. “Oh, how gallant.”
Alice’s flirtatious exclamation barely intruded on Leslie’s bemusement for MacLaren had lifted his eyes to hers once more. She studied that fierce blue gaze and the unmistakable challenge there sent her heart racing.
She drew a breath to steady her rising pulse. “I think we must play Ombre, as we are a party of only three.”
“No, no, Leslie. You and MacLaren must play two-handed Ombre.” Was there a hint of mischievousness to her friend’s voice? “This game is simply too romantic for any interlopers to have a hand in.”
“I agree,” Mr. MacLaren drawled. “This should be between Lady Carr and myself.”
“Then it is settled.” Alice clapped her gloved hands softly. “I shall find myself a glass of wine. Alice winked at her and, before Leslie could comment, her friend rose.
Mr. MacLaren stood and bowed slightly. Alice chuckled, then left the table. Leslie’s throat went suddenly dry and she wished she might follow. But she would select something stronger than wine. This was a novel situation. Usually she was the one dragging Alice into some madcap adventure or another. Now she felt oddly vulnerable.
Continuously, she had misjudged Mr. MacLaren’s next actions and motives. Now unease wound through her, as though she suddenly were traversing shifting sands in dancing slippers. Damn Alice. What had motivated her sudden change of mind? She had been flirting with Mr. MacLaren, clearly in competition for his attention.
“Are you ready, my lady?” Mr. MacLaren asked.
“We shall have to remove a suite of cards from the deck,” Leslie said in what she hoped was a brisk, businesslike demeanor.
“Hearts or diamonds?” he asked.
Indeed. Which?
She couldn’t help but trace a fingertip along her diamond necklace. His gaze followed her fingers. Her heart or her diamonds. Which did he really value more? She mentally shook herself. What a foolish thought. Neither hearts nor diamonds were at stake here.
She forced a soft, sensual laugh. “You choose.”
“Hearts.” He began searching the deck for hearts.
“An interesting choice, Mr. MacLaren. I am curious why you pick hearts to eliminate?”
“Hearts can be weak.”
“A wise heart can be the strongest fortress known,” she murmured.
“How rarely one encounters a wise heart.”
“Yes, so rarely one might be caught unaware in the presence of one such heart.”
“Oh, I am never caught unaware,” he said.
She bit back a laugh. The young man was arrogant.
Evan continued to separate the hearts from the rest of the deck, all the while trying not to show how the prickling at the back of his neck had unsettled him. What sort of a game was he really playing with her? What were the terms for their play?
He wanted her. She had to know that.
Without strings or melodrama.
Earlier, the gentlemen had called her an adventuress. She clearly enjoyed taking risks. That could lend itself in his favor. But it could also mean that she was the type of woman who liked to play fast and loose with a man’s sanity and reputation. She might end up painting him a devil for her own amusement. Oh, he’d seen enough of those women. Wasn’t his brother shackled for life to such a heartless, manipulative creature? An easily bored woman saw men as playthings, and they all wanted marriage as their ultimate goal.
“Mercy, sir.” The slight laugh in her tone send a chill through him that was part wariness, part sensual thrill. “You seem determined to strip me to the bone with that look.”
He set the suit of hearts aside and began shuffling the cards. “I am wondering what sort of a player you are, my lady.”
She cocked her head, that lush mouth curving upward. “Are you asking if I cheat?”
“I would know if you were merely cheating the rules of the current game. That is not my worry.”
She arched a brow. “Then what? You would allow me to cheat so long as you believed yourself in control of the situation?” Amusement laced her words.
“I believe in being permissive.”
“But there are limits?”
“I would hate to think that you were changing the nature of the game entirely,” he replied, unruffled.
“I think we are no longer speaking of Ombre.”
“Nae,” he murmured. “We are not.”
“I think you are being presumptuous.”
“I think you would be insulted if I were not.”
Her lips twitched as though she were suppressing a grin. “Just attend to this current game. Ombre, remember?”
“Aye.”
He began to shuffle, aware that she watched his hands. What was it about a woman watching a man’s hands that seemed erotic? Or was it just the fact she was watching his hands and he hoped she was envisioning what he wanted to do to her with his hands?
Her gaze shifted past him and a shadow fell across the table a bare instant before he recognized the familiar scent of lilacs. Evan silently cursed but kept his eyes on the cards. A slim arm draped over his shoulder.
Lady Isabel Dunn sat in the seat to his left and slid her hand across his shoulder and down his arm before she said, “What a surprise to see you here, Mr. MacLaren.” She turned to Leslie. “Lady Carr, if I am not mistaken.”
Leslie angled her head in acknowledgement. “Forgive me, but have we met?”
“We have not. But I saw you at Mrs. Landon’s party last year.”
Evan wanted to wring Isabel’s pretty neck. Instead, he said, “Lady Carr, meet Lady Isabel Dunn.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Leslie said, but Evan had the sense she wasn’t that pleased. The woman was a fine judge of character.
Evan finished dealing and picked up his cards in hopes Isabel would leave. “I did not know you and Dunn we
re friends of Baroness Trent,” he said to her.
“Oh, yes, Dunn knew her husband from their university days.” Her eyes shifted to the cards. A slow smile lifted her mouth and Evan realized his mistake. “Ombre,” she said. “For two players.” She lifted her eyes to his face. “How…intimate.”
Evan caught the narrowing of Leslie’s eyes.
She gave Isabel a cool smile. “Care to join us?”
He winced inwardly. Lady Carr couldn’t turn away from a challenge, and Isabel might as well have slapped her across the face with a white glove. He understood little about women, but the need to answer a challenge, he understood. The challenge wasn’t over him—at least not on Leslie’s part. Isabel…well, she probably wanted him more than she would admit. She hated losing. He suspected the same could be said for Lady Carr, only it was likely Lady Carr hated losing to a person of flawed character, and Isabel was certainly flawed.
“Three handed Ombre it is, then.” Evan gathered up the dealt cards and began to shuffle again.
Isabel looked at him from beneath her lashes. She knew how to use that womanly smile to perfection. Six months ago, he would have fallen for it—had fallen for it.
“What are the stakes?” Isabel asked.
Evan faltered in dealing. She didn’t mean…
She turned her gaze onto Leslie. “I hear you are an adventurous woman, Lady Carr.”
“Isabel,” he growled.
She laughed. “Come now, Evan, a woman who plays two handed Ombre with a gentleman expects a certain level of excitement.”
Evan set the deck on the table and looked at her. “Lady Carr and I only met tonight. A stolen kiss is sufficient excitement.”
Was that curiosity that flickered in Lady Carr’s eyes?
“A stolen kiss.” Isabel sent her a sideways look. “Any lady who challenges an earl to a horserace is not a lady to settle for a stolen kiss.” She smiled. “At last not a kiss on the mouth.”
Lady Carr’s expression remained neutral. “Am I to infer that you are proposing stakes of an intimate kind?”
“It would certainly make the game interesting, do you not agree?”
Lady Carr arched a brow. “Only if the players are worth playing with.”
Isabel’s eyes narrowed, then she turned a sultry look on him. “Evan can vouch for my worthiness to apply kisses in just the right ways”—she returned her gaze to Leslie—”and places.”
Lady Carr’s eyes shifted past Evan and Isabel looked over her shoulder. Isabel drew a small gasp, then faced forward again. “Deal, Mr. MacLaren.”
Mr. MacLaren?
A large, sandy haired man stopped at their table and Evan understood her sudden change in mood.
“Good evening, Lord Dunn.” Evan smiled. “Care to join us for a game of Ombre?”
“You have bollocks the size of a horse to dare even speak to my wife,” the viscount snapped.
Evan turned his attention to Lady Carr. “You will have to forgive Viscount Dunn, my lady. He worries about his wife a great deal.”
The viscount’s jaw visibly flexed. “I will no’ let you off so easy this time, you bloody fool.”
Anger tightened Evan’s belly. “Forgive me, my lord.” He didn’t stop there, though he knew he should. “We have discussed this at length.”
“No more of your lies,” the older man shot back.
“I never denied—” Evan broke off and looked at Leslie. She watched, eyes keen with interest.
“Never denied that you bedded my wife,” Dunn finished for him.
Two women sitting in chairs near the hearth glanced their way.
“Really, John,” Isabel said. “Must you make a scene everywhere we go?”
He seized Evan’s jacket and yanked him to his feet. A murmur swept the room as Evan twisted free and took a step back. He’d had enough of the fool’s insults.
“My lord, perhaps you would prefer to step outside with me.” Evan angled his head toward the doors, a few feet away.
“Not again,” Isabel said, but Evan caught the glint of interest in her eyes.
“Return to our room, Isabel,” the viscount ordered.
Leslie swept to her feet and started around the table.
Evan faced her. “Lady Carr, I will not be long.”
Lady Carr reached the viscount’s side. A small group of men sitting at a card table across the room watched them. “Mr. MacLaren, I would like that walk in the garden you promised me,” she said.
“A walk in the garden?” Isabel blurted.
Her husband’s head snapped in her direction. “What do you care if they take a walk in the garden?”
“I do not care,” she said. “I simply thought we were going to play Ombre.”
“MacLaren,” the viscount growled.
Lady Carr grasped the crook of Evan’s arm and pressed her breast against his forearm. “Our card game is not going as planned. Lady Dunn is correct; I am not a woman to settle for a single stolen kiss.”
“What’s this talk of kisses?” Dunn demanded.
Lady Carr shifted her gaze onto him. “You are wise to keep a close eye on your wife, sir. It was not Mr. MacLaren who made advances, but her.”
Isabel shot to her feet. “How dare you?” She lunged for Leslie.
The viscount grabbed for her and Evan seized Lady Carr’s arm to pull her aside, but she yanked free and nimbly stepped away, narrowly missing Isabel’s grasp. Lady Carr spun, yanked up her skirt, and gave Isabel a kick in the buttocks. Isabel stumbled several more paces, caught herself, then whirled. With a screech, she charged.
This time, Evan grabbed Lady Carr’s arm and pulled her into his arms as the viscount stepped in front of them. Lady Carr’s head snapped up and her eyes met Evan’s as Isabel slammed into the viscount. His mouth went dry at the crush of Lady Carr’s breasts against his chest. Isabel dropped to the carpet on her buttocks and cried out. Her husband grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She cast a glare Evan’s way. The guests in the room stared as the viscount led his wife from the room at a fast walk.
Evan looked down at Lady Carr. “Shall we take that walk, my dear?”
He didn’t wait for her answer, but started them toward the balcony. She didn’t resist. He hadn’t thought she would. After all, the walk in the garden was her idea. What had she said? “I am not a woman to settle for a single stolen kiss.”
If ever there was proof of a merciful God, this was it.
Evan caught the glances cast their way as they swept across the room and out the open doors. The night was cool for the start of summer. Even more perfect. The balcony opened to the east lawn. Beyond the lawn, trees lay in thin moonlight.
She chuckled. “In a hurry, are we?”
He looked down at her. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
Her head snapped up and he was satisfied to read the surprise in her eyes.
“Do you mind?” he asked, as they slowed and descended the three steps to the lawn.
He caught the twitch of amusement at the corner of her mouth before she looked straight ahead again. That wasn’t quite the reaction he’d hoped for. They strolled across the lawn.
“I take it you and Lady Dunn are old friends,” she said.
There was no mistaking the laughter in her voice, but any recrimination was absent.
“I met her nine months ago in Italy. I had no idea she was married,” he said, then regretted the confession. He sounded as if he made excuses. Had he been?
“She seems dissatisfied with her marriage,” she said. “Is Lord Dunn difficult?”
Evan snorted. “Compared to Isabel? Nae.”
“You met her in Italy? Does that mean you have a lady in every port?”
Bloody hell, if that wasn’t genuine curiosity in her voice.
They reached the edge of the soft light that spilled from the open doors and slowed in the darker shadows of a massive alder.
“No one of import,” he said.
“Indeed?”
“
Indeed,” he murmured, and swung her into his arms.
She gave a small gasp of surprise as he bent his head. Their lips touched, and his cock leapt to life. She slid her arms around his neck and he pulled her flush against him. Her breasts flattened against his chest. He eased her back against the tree and slid a leg between her legs. Her lips parted in surprise and he flicked his tongue against her tongue. She tangled her tongue with his and his cock pulsed with startling need. He’d only just met her. He’d bedded Isabel the very night he met her and that had been a terrible mistake. Would making love to Lady Carr so soon be a mistake, as well?
She slid her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. He shuddered when she tightened her grip. She nipped at his lower lip. The lady liked to play. His heart pounded. This was the finest stolen kiss he’d ever had. Might she like a bit more? Evan flattened a palm on her ribs, then slid upward and cupped her breast. She sighed into his mouth. Surely, making love to this woman wouldn’t be a mistake. She was nothing like Isabel. He’d wanted Isabel, but he hadn’t considered a relationship beyond the boudoir. Was he considering more with Leslie?
She arched into his palm. Slowly, Evan slid her sleeve down until her breast was exposed. He broke the kiss, dipped his mouth to her hardened nipple and flicked it with his tongue. She breathed deep and blood thundered through his ears. He suckled the nipple. She drew in a sharp breath and he feared he would spend himself in his breeches. The woman was intoxicating. She released his hair and he froze when she cupped his erection. He’d never known a woman to be so bold. Gently, she kneaded his cock. He suckled her nipple harder. She kneaded him more firmly.
Evan released her breast and whispered in her ear, “Do with me what you will.”
“Anything?” she said in a throaty voice that hardened his cock to near pain.
Anything?
“Anything,” he replied, and kissed her neck.
She lowered her free hand and, to his shock—and delight—began unbuttoning his falls. His eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to discern the shape of her hand and he watched her fingers make fast work of the buttons. His heart thundered in anticipation as she pushed aside his shirttail. When she wrapped her fingers around his cock, Evan felt certain he’d died and gone to heaven.
