Hot Historicals Bundle with An Invitation to Sin, The Naked Baron, When His Kiss Is Wicked, & Mastering the Marquess

by Jo Beverley

  Yet tomorrow morning they would not meet at dawn in the studio as they had.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him then that she was leaving in the morning, but the words would not come out. “Good night,” was all she could muster.

  And then he disappeared down the spiral staircase.

  Charlotte returned to her empty room, blinking back unshed tears and feeling as if someone had kicked her in the stomach. She sat on the edge of her bed, wrapped her arms across her waist, and tried to catch her breath. Finally she stood. With trembling fingers she removed her pretty gown and all its trappings and slipped into the coolness of her white lawn nightdress. She unpinned her long hair, letting it fall to her waist. She turned down the lights and climbed into the tall bed. Restless and anxious and filled with longing, she could not lie still.

  Charlotte rose from her bed. She began to pace across the room, her bare feet silent upon the smooth tile. Back and forth she moved, back and forth across the floor. Finally she paused.

  She stared at the balcony doors.

  Before she could think, before she could change her mind, she slipped out the doors and fairly flew down the iron steps that led to Gavin’s room. Her heart pounding an erratic rhythm, she tapped lightly on his door. Without waiting for a response she pulled the double doors open. Her eyes scanned the dimly lit room, focusing in on him.

  He turned at the sound of her entrance and froze in place. He had just removed his shirt and stood in only his trousers. The sight of his bare chest made her shiver.

  “Charlotte?”

  Her mouth was too dry to speak. She closed the doors behind her and stepped toward him on unsteady legs, ignoring the incredible roaring in her ears. Her eyes moved to the large bed that dominated the room and back to Gavin.

  He tossed his shirt to the floor and came to her. He gathered her in his arms and she breathed in the clean scent of him. It calmed her. As did being in his familiar embrace. She pressed her cheek into the heat of his bare chest, could hear the beating of his heart. Her arms wrapped around him and her hands caressed the smoothness of his back. He kissed the top of her head over and over, while his hands stroked her hair.

  When she could breathe again, he cupped her face in his hands, making her look at him. Charlotte stared into his eyes and was lost.

  He knew why she had come.

  Without a word, his mouth came down over hers, hot and possessive and demanding. His tongue plundered her. She clung to him tightly and kissed him back as fiercely as she could. She wanted him. She wanted everything. And nothing else mattered at that moment but the two of them. She clung to him, to his soft lips, to his hot mouth.

  Finally allowed the freedom to touch her where he wished, Gavin’s hands raced over her body, caressing her through her nightdress. He slid his hands down her back, over her hips, then cupped her bottom and pressed her against him. With his fingers he hitched up the fabric of her nightgown, slowly sliding the material up her legs, leaving bare skin in its wake. When he had enough in his hands he pulled the rest of it up and over her head, as she obligingly raised her arms.

  A rush of air escaped him in a low whistle. “I’ve pictured you like this a thousand times, Charlotte, and you are even more beautiful than I imagined.”

  Naked before him, without the cover of pale silk between them this time, he ran his warm hands over her skin, caressing her shoulders, her arms, her back. Shivers of delight washed over her. Leaning forward she kissed him, her mouth hungry for the taste of him. Effortlessly, he lifted her up and carried her, just like the day on the beach. She loved it when he did that. With a gentle touch he placed her on the bed and positioned himself beside her. He rested his head on his hand and gazed at her.

  “You’ve done this before,” she whispered in apprehension, knowing what his answer would be.

  He gave a slight nod.

  “With very many women?”

  “That doesn’t matter now.”

  “I’ve never done—”

  “I know.” He kissed the words from her lips and stroked her face in a soothing motion.

  Charlotte leaned into him.

  “Do you know what torture it was for me to hold you in my arms each morning in the studio and feel your body so close to mine, and yet not be able to do this?”

  With the lightest, the faintest of touches, he traced a delicate path from her cheek, to her jaw, down her neck, caressing across her chest until he crested at the peak of one breast. Her eyes fluttered while he stared at her, his eyes heavy lidded with passion.

  “Or this?”

  He lowered his head and kissed her breast, his tongue teasing the nipple.

  Her breathing now began to come in shallow pants and she shivered with pleasure at his intimate touch. It was rapturous, every bit of it.

  “Or this?”

  He continued to lavish honey-sweet kisses on her other breast.

  As she lay naked on his bed, a moment of panic consumed her at the inevitability of what she was about to do. She closed her eyes and pulled him to her, wanting the weight, the solidness, of his body to cover hers. She heard the sound of his voice, soft murmurings of endearments, soothing words. He whispered her name as he kissed her face, her eyes, her cheeks, her throat. She was not afraid, for she wanted this, wanted him too much to truly be afraid. It was the unknown that had her so skittish.

  Thoughts, everything and nothing at all, raced through her mind. She could not catch one long enough before another one replaced it. He smelled nice, like spicy soap. His skin was so warm and smooth. His blond hair was thick and silky. She loved the sound of his name. She may have even said it out loud. His touch felt wonderful. Time was suspended around them, for each second seemed to last an eternity. Every caress, every kiss was intensified between them. She could not get close enough and she writhed beneath him. He moved away, and feeling bereft, she pulled him back to her.

  She wanted to melt into him, to become part of him. Her mouth sought his and they kissed, their lips searing each other. Tasting, licking, sucking. She splayed her fingers through his thick blond hair, losing herself in the feel of him. She arched her back, pressing against his body, which covered the length of hers. Taut muscle and heated skin, a long, hard penis … Her eyes flew open! Unaware of how he had shed the rest of his clothes, she suddenly realized he was as naked as she was. Heavens! She knew it would come to this, and she had four little brothers so she had an idea of what one looked like, but she was not at all prepared for the sight or feel of Gavin’s! She gasped and wriggled against the male protrusion that rested intimately between her legs. He kissed her, calming her and enflaming her once again. His molten eyes bored into her and she could not look away, no longer wanted to keep her eyes closed from him.

  “Charlotte?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. The muscles in his arms tightened.

  She knew what he asked. “Yes,” she breathed so low she wasn’t sure if he heard her.

  He kissed her mouth again, his eyes still on hers. He heard.

  When he entered her, hard and swift, she cried out before she could stop herself. The pain and awkwardness subsided as he continued to move in a steady rhythm within her. She lay motionless at first, unable to do anything else but accept. But then, oh but then … Those sensations began to escalate anew…. She had no choice. She had to move then, move with him. The look in his eyes as she shifted her body with his excited her.

  Their pace increased, their fervor for each other in a fever pitch. Awash in pleasure and blissful sensations and feelings that had no name, Charlotte thought she would faint. Or scream. Or both. Instead she held on to Gavin’s strong shoulders as the only stable element in her spinning world as she was suddenly overcome with waves of the most intense pleasure she had ever known as he strained his body against hers.

  Then he collapsed next to her, breathing as heavily as she was.

  Exhausted and basking in the delicious lethargy that crept over her entire body, she curled up next to
him. Gavin drew her into the circle of his arms and kissed her.

  Charlotte closed her eyes then.

  Chapter 8

  Gavin squinted at the golden sunlight that poured through the tall windows of his bedroom. Glancing at the empty space next to him, he recalled images of the beautiful woman who had been there during the night. Unsure when Charlotte had left his bed, he lamented the fact that she was gone already. He knew she had to return to her own room, but still it would have been nice to kiss her good morning.

  Bloody hell! He bolted upright and rubbed his eyes. What the hell had he been thinking? To bed a woman like Charlotte Wilton? There would be the devil to pay now. He knew the consequences of such an act and now he would have to face them.

  Charlotte had taken him by surprise, coming to his room in her nightgown the way she had. She had thrilled him, knowing that she had wanted him just as much as he had wanted her. And Christ, but hadn’t he been tortured more than a red-blooded male could bear during the portrait sittings the last two weeks? Who could blame him for succumbing to temptation when it came walking in his door, looking like a luscious goddess in the moonlight?

  And it had been amazing with her. He had sensed that it would be from that first session in the art studio. She had not balked at removing her clothes or stiffened when he had held her so intimately in their required pose. He loved that about her. The naturalness of her desires and feelings. And she had been unabashed and unashamed in sharing them with him last night. Smiling at the memory, he stretched and recalled the taste of Charlotte’s sweet lips.

  After he had bathed and dressed, he left his room in search of her. The poor girl was probably frantic with worry over what they had done last night. He knew she would need reassurance that he didn’t think any less of her. Hell, he thought more of her, if such a feat were possible! For hadn’t he done nothing else but fantasize about making love to her night after night? No, the decent thing to do was to find her and tell her he would put everything to rights. He had taken her innocence and now he would have to marry her.

  Or he could get out of it somehow. The idea danced around his head, a slight temptation.

  He could leave Spain immediately. It wasn’t likely he would see her again. He didn’t have to marry her. But a girl like Charlotte … No. He couldn’t do it. He liked her too much. Respected her even. She was witty and sensitive and intelligent. They got on well together. Gavin could not do something so low as to disappear on her by playing the cad.

  He had been raised to be a gentleman and to behave accordingly.

  She must be feeling a little ashamed and fearful about what to do next. He imagined she would be quite pleased with him and grateful for his offer. He was heir to an earldom after all, and as his wife, Charlotte would be a countess.

  Marriage was not something he thought he would enter into for a few more years yet. He only had a year of university left, so they could plan a wedding for next summer. Perhaps his father would be pleased by Gavin’s desire to settle down with a proper and lovely girl and forgo the pressure for him to finish school. And just what would his dear old father think of the news? Surely he couldn’t disapprove of marriage?

  “Buenas tardes, mi amigo!” Pedro Bautista-Martín called to him.

  “Good afternoon to you too.” Gavin smiled in return.

  “You are up rather late today.”

  “The portrait is finished and I thought I would sleep in for a change. Have you seen Miss Wilton about?”

  Pedro seemed surprised by his question. “I just said good-bye to her.”

  “Has she gone down to the beach?” Gavin asked, wondering why Charlotte had not waited for him. The beach would be a perfect spot to propose to her.

  “No.” Pedro shook his head, an odd expression on his face. “She went down to the port. She and her aunt are sailing to Italy.”

  Gavin felt as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “What do you mean?”

  “Miss Wilton and her aunt have left the villa. We all wished them bon voyage. My mother went to see them off.”

  Stunned, Gavin stared in amazement at his friend, his blood racing. Charlotte left? Without a word to me? Why would she do such a thing?

  “Did you not know she was going?”

  Gavin shook his head slowly. He had definitely not known. If he had known he would have stopped her. Or gone with her.

  “I thought you two had grown rather close of late …”

  He had thought so too. Quite close. Apparently, Charlotte thought something else entirely.

  Moving on wooden legs, Gavin walked out to the veranda and stared at the Mediterranean Sea. She had gone. After giving herself to him last night she had disappeared without a word. She wanted nothing more to do with him. He had the oddest sensation that his heart had just been ripped from his chest.

  Never in his life had he thought seriously about marrying before. Yet with Charlotte he had. He was on his way to ask her to be his wife. And she was gone. She’d left him. Fled the country! He did not even know where she was going. It suddenly dawned on him as well that he had no idea at all where she lived. He had no way to contact her.

  Astounded by this bit of reality, he sat on a chair and stared at the sea glittering in the afternoon sunlight. She was out there … on a ship …

  She’d left him.

  His mind was not functioning properly. Surely he had misheard his friend and Charlotte had only gone out with her aunt for a while.

  Pedro followed him onto the veranda and sat in the chair beside him. “You are in love with her?”

  “What?” Gavin stiffened at the question. “Oh, no. No.” He liked her immensely. She was beautiful and intelligent and caring. But in love with her? Definitely not. He was not in love with Charlotte. Was he?

  “I would not have thought this of her.” Pedro shook his head in disbelief. “That she would not have told you she was leaving. Was she angry with you over something?”

  “Of course not.” Unless she was angry about spending the night in his bed, but given how eager and willing she had been, he seriously doubted it. She’d left him. No woman had ever left him before.

  “Women!” Pedro exclaimed. “Who can understand them? Forget about her, my good friend. There is still much to enjoy here and we have a few weeks to go before you return home.”

  He should take Pedro’s advice and enjoy the rest of the summer. Gavin should feel nothing but relief! She’d left him. He was off the hook for marrying Charlotte. This development should make him happy. Once again he was a man free to enjoy the delights of pretty women. More than likely he would never set eyes on Charlotte Wilton again. Yet he felt nothing but great disappointment at that prospect. And devastated by her careless defection. He should try to forget her now and join Pedro for a good time, enjoying the rest of a carefree summer.

  Yet he had no desire to do that. None at all.

  Strangely enough, what he really wanted to do was put all this behind him. He wanted to do something different, something worthwhile. He wanted to start over. He wanted to return home and apologize to his father.

  Chapter 9

  Four Months Later

  English Countryside

  “Charlotte!” the young boy cried from his perch on the limb of the oak tree. “Charlotte! Watch me!”

  Charlotte saw her younger brother and called out to him, “Addison Forsythe! Don’t you dare jump off that branch! It’s entirely too high. You’ll get hurt!”

  “Ah, don’t be a stick in the mud, Charlotte! Let him jump!” Allen Forsythe piped up. “Let him jump!”

  “Come on, Char!” Andrew Forsythe pleaded, his baby hands pressed together. “We want to see him go!”

  She put her hands on her hips in exasperation and stared at her three brothers, their pugnacious little faces set in determination. Adam, her only younger brother who was not vexing her at the moment, ignored the lot of them. Sprawled on the blanket under the shade of the tree, Adam had his nose in a book. The olde
st of the quartet of Forsythe brothers at eleven, Adam was studious and quiet and generally considered himself superior to his younger siblings.

  “No. It’s too dangerous,” Charlotte exclaimed. She looked up at the one in the tree. The sunlight sprinkled through the autumn-tinted leaves and colored his brown hair with a red hue. “Climb down a few branches at least, Addison!”

  “Well, that’s no fun!” snorted Andrew, the youngest at five. His round freckled face filled with scorn at her proclamation.

  “Let him jump, please!” Allen tugged on her arm.

  “I promised Mother I would not let you run wild if I took you on this picnic. So I will not bring you home with a broken leg or worse, Addison,” she called up to him.

  “Oh, just jump already, Addison!” Adam called from his position on the blanket, not even glancing up from his book.

  “You are not helping me at—Oh!” Before Charlotte could finish the words, her nine-year-old brother came crashing down on the ground beside her amid a flurry of gold and red leaves and broken twigs. “Addison! I told you not to do that!”

  He could not hear her reprimands over the shouts of glee from the younger boys.

  “That was brilliant!” Andrew cheered, exceedingly delighted with his brother’s forbidden descent from the tree.

  The wild whoops and hollers even made Adam look away from his beloved book.

  Charlotte grabbed Addison’s arm, helping him to his feet. “Are you hurt at all?” Her mother certainly would blame her if he were.

  Addison, beaming with pride, brushed some dirt from the seat of his trousers. “Course not!”

  “Then let’s go back to the house,” she ordered all of them. “It’s getting late anyway and we want to be home before Alec gets there.”

  “Oh, yes! Let’s hurry!” Andrew jumped up and down. “I want to see Alec!”

  Charlotte knew that mentioning their eldest brother’s imminent visit from university would elicit their compliance in heading back to the house. Her stepbrother’s rare homecoming had left the younger boys excited, for they looked upon Alec as an all-powerful hero. And indeed, he was tall, handsome, athletic and excelled at everything he put his hand to. The product of her stepfather and his first wife, Alec was only a year older than Charlotte, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. They had always got on well together and she had been looking forward to his homecoming as well. She had not seen Alec herself since his Christmas holiday last year, because she had been away all summer.