Beautiful Distraction

by Jess Michaels

  He should have stopped that mystery woman, but he didn’t. Liam could use a woman’s touch to calm him down. In truth, he could himself. Mal was realizing now just how long it had been since he’d felt soft skin on his, smelled honeysuckle and mint on a woman’s hair and breath, felt wide eyes watching him with desirous intent.

  Too long.

  “And what is your friend’s name?” he asked.

  Her gaze, which had been heavy and hooded, suddenly widened. “My friend?”

  “The one who just scurried down the alley in order to seduce Lord Windbury?” he pressed, drawing Olivia closer, close enough that he could feel her body heat in the cool spring-afternoon air.

  She tensed, and there was a flash of fear that briefly crossed her face before she erased it with the effortless pretending of a woman of a certain profession.

  “Do you intend to have her arrested?” she asked, her tone even and still flirtatious despite the question.

  He grinned. “For what, exactly? I assume she has no intentions of hurting him.”

  “None whatsoever,” Olivia reassured him swiftly. “Nor do I have any intentions of hurting you, Mr. Graham. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  She leaned in and he felt the gentle stir of her breath on his cheek. His blood was pumping hard now, making it nearly impossible to think of anything except her—taking her, seeing her naked beneath him.

  But he somehow managed to control all those instincts.

  “I assume you were sent here as my distraction?” he whispered, touching her cheek with the back of his hand.

  “Something like that,” she verified, breathless.

  “Because she asked you to?” he pressed as he jerked his head toward the alley.

  Her gaze locked with his. “Yes,” she admitted calmly. “But that doesn’t mean I find the task to be an unpleasant one.”

  He held her stare for what seemed like an eternity as thoughts invaded every corner of his mind. She was willing to seduce a stranger for her friend. The fact that she now found him attractive didn’t change the fact that she had probably taken that duty before she knew anything about him. Which meant she would do anything for that friend.

  Something he knew a great deal about. And yet he wasn’t entirely pleased at being on the receiving end of such a “sacrifice”.

  “You must care for her a great deal,” he mused out loud.

  Her brow wrinkled, not that he blamed her. They were a hair’s breadth apart and yet he was talking about some other woman instead of taking Olivia’s offer of distraction.

  “I do care for her,” Olivia admitted softly.

  “And you are willing to do what she asks,” he continued.

  She withdrew a fraction. “Yes.”

  “But do you do anything for yourself, Olivia?” he pressed, tilting his head to explore her pretty face closer. “Or are you so wrapped up in her welfare that you forget your own, forget what you want and need?”

  He realized as he said it that it was a question he also asked himself. A question he had avoided for a very long time. But now that he had said it out loud, even ostensibly aimed toward another person, he felt the question sink into his skin, his body, his soul.

  “You think I only martyr myself for someone else?” Olivia asked, interrupting his troubled thoughts.

  Her eyes flashed as if she was angry and her face flushed with pink color that made him wonder if she blushed the same way when at the heights of pleasure.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve only just met you.”

  She scowled at him for a moment, then to his shock, she stepped up to him, cupped his cheeks and drew him down to press her lips to his.

  He was stunned by the unexpected kiss, but only for a moment. Then he sank into it, his arms coming around her waist, drawing her against the length of his body as he angled his head for better access to her mouth. Her lips parted, an invitation to further pleasure, and he dove in, driving his tongue to duel with hers as he spun her around and pressed her against the cool stone wall of the building behind them.

  She offered no resistance as his kiss grew more demanding; in fact, she parried his attack with a passionate offense of her own. Her arms came up to wind around his neck and she moaned softly as she lifted herself, ever so slightly, into his embrace.

  Everything was rapidly spinning out of control. What had started as her response to his jab was now a kiss so erotic that he found himself gliding his hand down her side, feeling her shudder as he settled his fingers against her hips. He wanted to pull her skirts up and have her, right here in the street, in the broad daylight. He wanted to feel her body ripple around his in release and watch her face when she found that pleasure.

  He had to stop this before all that became reality and they were arrested. After all, this wasn’t exactly the kind of neighborhood where such acts of public obscenity would be ignored.

  He tangled his tongue with hers one last time, memorizing her taste, the feel of her kiss, and then he gently set her away and stepped back, panting with desire as he stared at her.

  “Go home, Olivia,” he managed between ragged breaths.

  Her desire-glazed expression faded and there was no mistaking the confusion and hurt that replaced it.

  “I beg your pardon,” she said, edging away from him and folding her arms as a shield in front of her breasts. “Are you dismissing me?”

  He nodded even as he reached out to run a finger along the angle of her jaw. “Only with great difficulty,” he said softly. “The next time you see me, Olivia Cranfield, offer yourself to me again. But this time, I want you to do it only for your own pleasure. And mine.”

  He leaned forward to steal one last kiss and then took all his wavering self-control to turn away from her.

  “And where are you going?” she called out from behind him.

  “To get a very stiff drink in the hopes it will make other things less stiff,” he said without looking back. “I have a feeling my friend will be a while before he finishes his fun.”

  “You could have had your own fun, you know,” she called out.

  He paused and turned back toward her. He wanted to rush back and take her somewhere quiet and have that fun. Just not on these terms.

  “I hope I’ll have another opportunity, Olivia,” he said. “Until I do, trust that I will think of you often and in most uncomfortable ways.”

  With that, he saluted her and then forced himself to continue walking away as he questioned if he had lost his mind entirely.

  Over an hour had passed since her encounter with Malcolm Graham, but Olivia couldn’t stop thinking of him as she paced the small parlor in the pretty little house they were letting in Bath. Being asked to seduce Lord Windbury’s friend to help Violet hadn’t exactly been the escape Olivia had been thinking about when she accompanied her friend here, but once she saw the man…

  Well, the seduction had ceased to be a duty almost immediately.

  He was beautiful. That was the only accurate description of him. He was a head taller than the average man, with close-cropped black hair and dark eyes that were almost obsidian when they focused on something. Or someone. Her. She had been captured by that stare, held captive until he chose to release her.

  And his body. Great God, it had been too long since she’d touched such a specimen. He was thickly muscled from head to toe—she had felt that beneath his coat when he’d spun her against the wall and pinned her there with passionate kisses. His physical strength was impressive, almost as impressive as the confidence with which he wielded it.

  This was not a man who ever doubted himself. She found herself a little jealous of that fact. And irritated by his dismissal of her.

  If there was one thing she had learned in the past seven years it was that she knew how to control a man with her body and the promise of pleasure. But this man had not surrendered so readily. Oh yes, he’d kissed her…my, how he had kissed her. She didn’t think she had ever been so thoroughly kissed. Even now,
her lips tingled at the memory and her body reacted with as much desire.

  But then he had withdrawn, talking to her about choice.

  “Choice,” she muttered to herself as she slid her finger around the edge of a long-ago abandoned teacup. “It is easy for a man to say when he has nothing but choices in his life. I’ve never had a choice. Pretending is my only way of survival.”

  She turned and looked at herself in the mirror above the fireplace. She saw the fraud she hid from the world, but had Malcolm sensed it? Was that the true reason he had denied her advances? She racked her mind for any slip of her accent, for any way she might have shown her true self and put him off.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices in the foyer down the hall. Violet had come home, and Olivia took a long breath. Even with her friend, she sometimes pretended. Today would be no different. She would have to hide her own experiences with Malcolm and focus instead on Violet. She smoothed her gown, then moved to the door and threw it open with a wide smile that she hoped masked her confusion with what had transpired with Malcolm.

  “And?” Olivia asked without preamble. She was curious, that was not invented. Had Violet had better luck with the earl?

  “And?” Violet repeated as she stepped into the parlor to pour herself a cup of tea.

  Olivia couldn’t help but notice that the ends of her friend’s hair were wet.

  “I have been waiting here for you forever. How did it go with Windbury?”

  Violet sank into the closest chair and took a long sip of tea.

  “Violet?” Olivia said with a laugh when her friend had stalled for far too long. “You are making me mad! Tell me.”

  “Well,” Violet said slowly, “he is—”

  When she broke off, Olivia stepped closer. “A beast?”

  Violet flinched. “No. Well, yes, but no.”

  Olivia shook her head. “You are terrible at this. I want to know details.”

  “He is scarred, of course,” Violet said. “But it is anything but unattractive on him.”

  Olivia blinked as her mind brought her unbidden images of Malcolm’s face. She shook them away swiftly.

  “And were you able to enact your plan?” Olivia pressed.

  Violet nodded. “Yes. As soon as you distracted his friend…thank you, by the way.”

  Olivia forced a wide smile, but she didn’t lie when she said, “It was entirely my pleasure.”

  Violet’s brow furrowed. “How far did you go?”

  Olivia hesitated. She was not about to admit the humiliating truth to her friend. That Malcolm had refused her was something she would keep to herself.

  “Not as far as I would have liked,” she said carefully. “That man is very attractive.”

  Violet laughed and Olivia sighed in relief. Her words and demeanor had worked and now there would be little prying from her friend.

  “Well, once you distracted him I was able to enter the private bathing room and…” Violet trailed off with a smile that left no doubts as to what had happened.

  “Your seduction is underway,” Olivia finished and was shocked at the spiraling attack of jealousy that mobbed her in that moment. She clenched her fists at her sides and ground out, “So what is your next step?”

  Violet bit her lip. “I have captured his attention by giving him pleasure, then walking away.”

  Olivia blinked. That certainly sounded familiar, though she had been on the receiving end today.

  “He was taken aback,” Violet continued, oblivious to Olivia’s thoughts. “I know that from his demeanor. He will be thinking of me, I’m certain, but if I pursue him, his desire may fade. When we next meet, I must make him believe it is an accident.”

  “Reel him in,” Olivia whispered. That was the way it normally worked, wasn’t it? Just not today.

  “I suppose that is one way to say it.” Violet sighed. “But for now my next move will be to write to Lord and Lady Rothcastle and tell them I have encountered Lord Windbury. I’m sure they are awaiting my report.”

  Olivia arched a brow. “And will you give them details of that ‘encounter’, as you so appropriately put it?”

  Violet shook her head swiftly. “Of course not. They know what methods I shall employ to gain his trust, but I would never be so crass as to elaborate on them. There are some things better left unsaid.”

  Olivia pressed her lips together. That was a most certainly true statement. She lived her life leaving things unsaid. She had found it was the only way to protect herself. And despite the confusion of the day’s events, she had to keep protecting herself. Even if she did meet again with the alluring Mr. Graham.

  Chapter Three

  There was no doubt that Liam had been utterly distracted by his encounter with Violet Milford. And Malcolm could not have been happier at the change. Instead of brooding over the past, his friend was caught up in the woman who had invaded his bath.

  Mal couldn’t say he didn’t understand the obsession. Since his meeting with Olivia just two days ago, he had found himself thinking of the beautiful blonde almost constantly. And scolding himself for not taking what she’d offered, regardless of the reason behind it.

  “Are you here?”

  Mal jolted at the question and looked across the carriage toward Liam. His friend was staring at him, a mixture of amusement and annoyance on his face.

  “Here?” Mal sputtered. “Of course I’m here.”

  “Really? I’ve said your name three times since the carriage stopped and you haven’t moved a muscle.”

  Mal blinked and looked toward the carriage window. They had indeed stopped. His cheeks filled with heat as he tried to play off his distraction.

  “Woolgathering,” he muttered. “Estate business.”

  Liam’s brow wrinkled. “Is that all?”

  “What else could it be?” Mal asked as he unlatched the door and threw it open to step into the street.

  Liam followed him, his gaze still fixed on Mal. “If you say so, my friend. I have that book to check on. Will you be at Mathers?”

  “I will,” Mal said. “I’ll see you there shortly.”

  The carriage pulled away as Liam headed up the stairs toward the bookstore they had parked in front of. As the vehicle pulled away and Mal was about to cross the street, he stopped. There, standing on the opposite side in front of a shop, was Olivia Cranfield.

  She had her head bent, examining something in the window, so he had a moment to observe her without her knowledge. Over the past forty-eight hours, he had relived every brief moment they’d spent together, but now that he looked at her, he realized she was even more beautiful than the image of her he had created in his mind. Every move she made was graceful, every selection—from the way she wore her hair to the cut and color of her gown—accentuated all her finest physical qualities. Of which there were too many to count.

  He found himself moving across the street toward her, not paying attention to the traffic on the lane, hardly noticing anything else but her. He just needed to get to her.

  She still hadn’t noticed his presence as he sidled up to her softly. He could smell her honeysuckle hair, and it roused his cock to partial attention as he thought again of pinning her against the wall just two days before.

  “Olivia,” he said softly, close to her.

  She jumped and spun toward him, eyes wide and expression startled. Her look quickly turned to one of pleasure as she realized who it was that had crept into her personal space.

  “Mr. Graham,” she said, raising a hand to cover her heart, which only served to draw his attention to the smooth curve of her breast.

  “Mal,” he said, voice rough as he forced himself to stop looking at that breast, to stop picturing what it would look like naked or taste like between his lips.

  She blinked. “Mal?”

  “I insist you call me Mal,” he clarified, “since I intend to be improper and call you Olivia.”

  A slight smile turned up her lips. “Very well, Mal.
What in the world brings you here?”

  “Into town?” he asked.

  “In front of a hat shop,” she said, motioning to the window where dozens of fancy bonnets were on display for wandering female eyes on the street.

  He laughed. “I do not think they are my type.”

  “The blue one there is your color,” she teased as she tapped the glass with a fingernail.

  He laughed before he gestured toward the bookstore across the street. “Windbury wished to come to town to check on a book he ordered.”

  Olivia nodded slowly. “Ah, well, he will likely encounter Violet. She also wished to look at the books.”

  “And yet you are here,” Mal said, drinking in her every move.

  She looked at him, wickedness in her dark stare. “Indeed I am. And so are you. In fact, you approached me. Was that the order of your employer? Are you sent on the errand this time, Mal?”

  “As your distraction?” he said with a smile.

  She nodded.

  “Do I distract you?” he purred, moving closer even though he couldn’t exactly mold himself to her, not on the busy street.

  She swallowed hard at his ever-increasing proximity. “I would be lying if I said you did not. Is it by design?”

  “I’m happy to hear I affect you as much as you do me,” he said. “But it is not something I was sent to do by anyone.”

  A flutter of a smile turned up her lips before she spoke again. “Then if you were not sent to keep me busy, that means you are here for yourself. As am I.”

  “This time it appears that is true,” he whispered, though he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He hadn’t been wholly for his own desires in so long he couldn’t recall it.

  “What will we do, then?” she asked, her gaze locked with his, unblinking, unwavering. She did not simper or pretend or hide her desire. It was written on her face and in her intense gaze.

  He shrugged. “My friend desires your friend,” he said. “If I know him, he will encounter her in the bookstore and I would wager he’ll invite her to supper tonight because he cannot get her out of his mind. Which means I will come to you tonight, here in town.”