More Than Willing

by Laura Landon

  “Which of course you’re sure I didn’t think to do.”

  “Please don’t put words in my mouth. You’ve hardly had experience in negotiations of this sort. I hardly expected you to think to ask for them.”

  “Of course.” He pushed himself away from the wall. “Being an irresponsible squanderer, I’ve never had to concern myself with accounting for the money I’ve spent.” He stepped toward her. “Except that at times I have been known to do the unexpected.” He patted his jacket pocket.

  “You have them?” She couldn’t believe it. “You thought to ask for them?”

  Maggie threw caution to the wind and darted across the room. He smiled when she reached him and he took the last step toward her to close the narrow distance she’d left between them. He was suddenly near enough that their toes touched.

  He chucked her under the chin. “Did you want to see them?”

  She swatted away his hand. “Of course I want to see them.”

  He shook his head. “It’s too late to look at them tonight, Maggie, dear.”

  “But I just want to—”

  “We’ll look at them first thing in the morning after we’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

  “We!”

  “Of course. You don’t expect me to negotiate with Briars without knowing his business inside and out, do you?”

  “No, but—”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and sent a thousand spikes of molten need shooting to her core.

  “Sometimes you amaze me, Maggie. You have a brilliant head for business, but unless you expect your father to return within the next few days, you’d better resign yourself to the fact that from now on you and I are in this together.”

  Maggie didn’t want to think of herself connected to Gray Delaney in any way, especially in something that might bring them into constant contact with each other. Something in the way he looked at her made her realize just how vulnerable she was when he came near. And the way she reacted to him warned her how much of a threat he was to her.

  “What are you worried about now?” he asked, moving one hand to the nape of her neck.

  She tried to pull away, but his hand held its firm grasp and he wouldn’t release her. “What is there that’s happening that I shouldn’t worry about? I’m being forced to risk the money I’ve saved for my sisters’ futures. I’ve aligned myself with a man whose reputation as a scoundrel and a spendthrift is known far and wide. And I’m here alone in the middle of the night with one of the most well-known rakes in all of England. Isn’t that enough to worry about for one day?”

  He smiled, then brushed the palm of his hand down her hair. “You should wear your hair down more often.”

  Maggie felt the warmth of his nearness and shivered, even though she told herself she wouldn’t let him affect her. But when he raked his fingers through her hair, then cupped the back of her head in the palm of his hand it was all she could do to keep her legs steady beneath her.

  She wanted to push him away, but that would mean she’d have to reach out to him and touch him, and her body was already on fire just standing that close to him.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, finding her voice.

  “I’m getting ready to kiss you.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I can’t?”

  “No. You said you’d never kiss a woman if she wasn’t willing.”

  “That’s right, Maggie, my dear.” He slowly lowered his head. “I said I’d never kissed a woman who wasn’t willing.”

  Before Maggie found the words to tell him he was wrong if he thought she’d allow him to make her another of his conquests, he brought his mouth down over hers and kissed her.

  His lips were firm and warm and moist and fit perfectly with hers. Maggie’s mind screamed a warning that she didn’t want to know what his kisses were like. But something deep inside her ignored every warning her mind issued. Something deep inside her was desperate to know.

  Once or twice during her London Seasons she allowed an admirer to kiss her, and each time their kisses left her cold and unemotional. Since she’d been resolute in her determination to never marry, she’d been relieved to find that the few kisses she’d allowed hadn’t affected her.

  Until now.

  The touch of Grayson Delaney’s lips against hers transformed her body into a spineless, boneless mass with no muscles to give strength to her arms or legs. Only her heart seemed to work with amazing ability, thundering inside her breast as loud as the grinders that mashed the grain. And her body heat soared to a raging inferno from the inside out, as hot as the mash brewed in the hop-boil.

  She didn’t want to know that only this man’s kisses could make her heart race as if she’d run a thousand miles. She didn’t want to know that only this man’s arms enveloping her could set her flesh on fire. Now that Grayson Delaney had shown her what she’d missed, she was doomed to live the rest of her life cursed with an empty, hollow ache filled with regret.

  Her mind ordered her to step out of his embrace before it was too late, but her body did just the opposite. She pressed herself closer as if she could somehow become a part of him. Then, as if her arms had movement of their own, they tightened around him to bring him closer to her.

  She knew she should tell him to stop, but the only sound she uttered was a moan that sounded more like a plea than a refusal.

  A stranger seemed to control her. Grayson Delaney seemed the only man in the universe who possessed what she’d gone without her whole life and she couldn’t exist another second without experiencing what he alone could give her.

  His kisses were hard yet gentle, demanding yet giving. His touch was comforting and exciting while at the same time insistent and satisfying. Even though she was probably far more inexperienced than any woman he’d ever kissed before, he made her feel like she was the most skilled lover in the world.

  She was sure he’d had countless women more beautiful than she, yet he made her feel like the most desirable woman on earth.

  But more amazing than anything, he made her feel like he truly wanted to kiss her.

  And that emotion was a headier feeling than anything she’d ever experienced before.

  He pulled her closer and deepened his kiss. She didn’t know what parameters there were to sharing a first kiss, or what guidelines should be observed, but she was sure they’d exceeded all boundaries. If there were any rules to sharing a proper kiss, she knew they’d shattered them. And when she thought there wasn’t another level to which he could take her, he pressed his thumb against her chin until she opened to allow him entrance.

  A heavy moan escaped from deep within her and a thousand stars exploded inside her head. His tongue touched hers and she reached to meet him, to explore the strangeness, to revel in the euphoric sensation sharing something so intimate caused. She wanted there to be something more. She desired to give him more, impatient to be connected to him in a more cherished way. Yet her mind wasn’t clear enough to know what that might be. Nor was she experienced enough to know what her body was telling her.

  “Grayson?” she said on a breathless gasp when he lifted his mouth from hers. “Gray?”

  “Ah, Maggie, my love.” He firmly covered her lips again.

  He deepened his kiss while moving his hands over her flesh from her shoulders down her arms and back up again. She felt a warm pressure at her waist, then that warmth slid beneath her cloak and covered her breast. She sighed a soft moan then arched her back to press more firmly into the palm of his hand.

  Time seemed to stop. None of the familiar brewery sounds sifted through the rushing roar echoing in her head. Not even the chiming of the mantel clock on the shelf made it above the pounding of her heart in her breast. Nothing except the faraway sound of a voice calling her name.

  “Miss Bradford?”

  Grayson pulled away from her so fast her knees buckled. He pressed his finger across her lips as a warning not to answer the voice and held her long enough for
her to get her bearing.

  “I can’t—”

  “You can,” he whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to the desk. He helped her sit, then placed a pen in her hand and slid some papers in front of her.

  “Miss Bradford?” the voice called again.

  “Answer him,” Gray whispered as he darted across the room and pressed himself in the corner behind a floor-to-ceiling bookcase.

  Maggie shook her head to clear it and took several huge gulps of air before she could make her voice work. “I’m in here,” she replied. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, Miss Bradford. Frankie.”

  “Oh, come in.”

  The door opened but thankfully, Frankie didn’t step inside the room.

  “Are you all right, Miss Bradford?”

  Maggie knew she looked like a frightened rabbit caught in a hunter’s sights. “Yes, I’m fine. Have you been calling long?”

  “No, just a couple of times.”

  “I was looking over these papers and must have fallen asleep. I appreciate you coming to check on me.”

  “I was makin’ my rounds across the yard and saw light from your office and thought I’d best check.”

  “Thank you. I’ll just put everything away here and go back to the house.”

  “Did you want me to stay and walk you home?”

  Maggie shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  “All right. You holler if you need me for something.”

  “I will, Frankie. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” The young man nodded respectfully before closing the door behind him.

  Maggie waited, then slid her chair back and rose to her feet. He stood to her right, still in the shadows, but there was enough light in the room for her to see him clearly—if she had the courage to look at him. But she didn’t.

  How had she let that happen? How had she given in to him like she had? She should have known better than to kiss him. She’d always known she couldn’t allow herself to be emotionally connected to anyone. Her parents’ marriage had taught her that, and she was cut from the same cloth as her mother.

  Just as Grayson Delaney was identical to her—

  “Are you all right?”

  His voice wrapped around her like a warm shawl and she desperately wanted to turn the mantel clock back to the minute before he’d kissed her. Then, she wanted to find the courage to push him away when he tried. “Please leave.”

  “Maggie, I’m sor—”

  “Don’t call me that.” She spun around to face him. “And don’t tell me you’re sorry. You’re not nearly as sorry as I am.”

  His thick dark brows arched and the corners of his mouth curled upward. “I wasn’t going to say I was sorry that I kissed you. I was going to tell you I was sorry I wasn’t more careful. Frankie finding us alone at this time of night could have ruined your reputation.”

  “Ah, my reputation. I’m sure you’ve had plenty of experience nearly ruining someone’s reputation. Well, you needn’t worry on my account. Even if we had been discovered there would have been no consequences.”

  “You don’t think I would have felt honor-bound to make an honest woman of you?”

  The tone of his voice was cold and Maggie could tell he teetered on the edge of being angry. She wasn’t sure she understood the reason. Perhaps his frustration was because of their narrow escape at being discovered together. Perhaps the liquor he’d drunk earlier had affected his judgment. Or he might think her remark questioned his integrity.

  “What you felt wouldn’t have mattered,” she countered. “I wouldn’t have allowed you to take responsibility for anything that happened.”

  “You’re very self-assured, aren’t you?”

  “Not self-assured,” she argued, a little confused by his assessment. “I simply have a logical understanding of what I will and will not allow to influence my life.”

  “What is it you are determined to avoid?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “Friendship? Companionship? Love?”

  Maggie paused. His honesty was unnerving, his accuracy frightening. And yet, perhaps it was best to make her position known in no uncertain terms. She turned a quarter turn to face him squarely. “I will not risk doing anything that will jeopardize my sisters’ futures. I intend to take them to London to give them a Season. When they have found husbands who will love them and take care of them…” She paused just long enough to give her words the full impact they warranted. “…I will come back home and run the brewery.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, Mr. Delaney. Alone.”

  He smiled. “That sounds very lonely.”

  Maggie looked into his handsome face and felt a twinge of hurt because always being alone would be lonely. But loneliness was far better than the anger and hurt and bitterness her parents had lived with every day of their lives. Her mistake was that she’d allowed Grayson Delaney to awaken all the emotions she thought she’d buried so deep they could never be uncovered.

  She knew without a doubt how dangerous it was to give those emotions free reign.

  “I know why you’re here,” she said with all the coolness she could muster.

  “You do?”

  “Yes. As a second son you are in the unfortunate position of having to find a wife who will guarantee you a large enough income to provide you with the lifestyle to which you are accustomed. Why you chose me or Bradford Brewery out of all the eligible victims was probably no more significant than the winners and losers in a game of chance, but this time you’ve chosen wrong.”

  Maggie took a step toward him and lifted her chin just enough to portray a haughty demeanor. “I will not let you gamble and drink away every pound of profits from my brewery. I. Will. Not.”

  “What a lofty opinion you have of me.”

  “My opinion of men with similar reputations as your own was hard earned.”

  Maggie spun away from him before he could answer. “It’s late,” she said, pulling her cloak tight around her shoulders. “We will meet in the morning to review the ledgers you brought. Then, if you are still willing to act as my representative, I will leave the negotiations with Mr. Briars up to you.”

  Maggie held herself as erect as the most dignified businessman. “You will be compensated for any extra time you devote to this venture, Mr. Delaney. And,” she added when his dark brows shot upward, “you will be rewarded handsomely if you can persuade Mr. Briars to sell the King’s Crown.”

  He smiled openly. “I’ll look forward to discussing the terms of our agreement with the same enthusiasm as I will enjoy showing you I can bring about the successful purchasing of the King’s Crown. But let me warn you from the start, Maggie, dear. I am sure what you consider an adequate reward and what I consider an adequate reward are worlds apart.”

  “I’m certain they are,” she agreed with a false bravado she was afraid wasn’t confident enough to conceal how much her heart thundered in her breast. “But you will find I am a ruthless.”

  He laughed. “Have you already assumed that I will be an easy mark?”

  “I would not presume anything of the kind.”

  Maggie gave him a smile she prayed dripped of honey, then bravely walked toward him. “I am well acquainted with men of your ilk. I cannot begin to tell you how much you remind me of my father,” she said when she reached him.

  He opened the door and let her pass. “What a nice thing for you to say.”

  “That wasn’t exactly a compliment.” She walked away from him.

  “I know.”

  Her feet nearly stumbled at his response.

  Chapter Eight

  “Are these the papers you wanted?” Henry Tibbles asked, handing Maggie the figures she’d asked him to bring.

  She looked at the pages first, then handed them across the desk to where Gray sat perusing the figures he’d brought from Geordie Briars.

  “Thank you,” he said, glancing from the papers to the ledgers he’d spre
ad out on the opposite side of the desk. When he looked up he nearly laughed at the disapproving glare Tibbles gave him. The fellow clearly did not approve of an association between himself and Miss Bradford. Gray looked back to the papers to hide the smile he couldn’t keep from his face.

  “Will there be anything else, Miss Bradford?” Henry asked.

  “No, Henry. I think that’s all unless—”

  “Are these the most current figures, Mr. Tibbles?” Gray flipped through the bundle of pages Henry had just given them.

  “Yes, Mr. Delaney. Those are the final totals of the ale produced at the brewery for the past five years. On the back page of each section the quantities are broken down by gallons, kegs, tons, and case bottles. As you can see, the brewery is producing more every year.”

  “Yes, I see,” he replied. “But the profits don’t reflect that. Is there a reason they don’t?”

  Tibbles’s questioning glance darted in his employer’s direction.

  “There have been added expenses the last few years that have eaten into the profits,” Maggie said. “Hopefully, this year we can eliminate some of them.”

  Gray didn’t delve further into why the profits were so miniscule but let the subject drop. He had a feeling Baron Bradley was responsible for their lack of profits.

  “Thank you, Mr. Tibbles.” Gray sought to put an end to the uncomfortable tension his question had caused. “You’ve been a great help.”

  With a stiff nod, Tibbles excused himself and walked across the room. “If you need anything else,” he said when he reached the entrance, “just ask. I’ll keep my office door open so I can hear you easy enough.”

  “Thank you,” Gray said.

  Tibbles left and Gray couldn’t help but notice that Maggie Bradford’s long-time employee didn’t close the door behind him like he’d found it when he brought the papers up, but propped it open wide.

  When Tibbles’s footsteps faded, Gray turned back to Maggie. He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his lips at the brilliant pink blush in her cheeks.

  “See, Maggie, dear. You have nothing to worry about. Your minions will make every effort to protect you from my nefarious ways.”