All You Could Ask For

by Angeline Fortin

  Her head fell back in surrender, and Francis took advantage, running his lips down her neck as she shivered and clung to him. “Oh, Francis.” She could feel her blood racing hotly through her body, a coil of tension between her legs that had her clenching them tightly together. Never in all the years of her marriage had she felt such lust as he inspired in a single kiss. She wanted it to go on forever. She never wanted it to end.

  “Eden, my Paradise,” he murmured, before claiming her lips once again, pushing his hands into her hair until it spilled from its arrangement and fell around her shoulders. He wrapped the mass around his hands and pulled her closer. “How I want ye, my love. I’ve wanted ye for so long.”

  “It’s only been a few days.”

  “Nay, it’s been years. Years that I’ve been wanting ye.”

  Eve shuddered as another wave of overwhelming desire flooded her. She wanted him as well, wanted to feel the strength of his massive body around her. Over her. In her. She quaked at the realization.

  “Francis, I…” She pulled back and met his hot gaze, read all the wanting there. Her eyes roamed his face, its swarthy, sun-kissed hues, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the fullness of his lower lip. With one hand she caressed the rough planes of his cheeks, feeling the stubble breaking through. She noticed the slight graying at his temples. Never had she seen a man so handsome, so compelling. A man whose sheer size made her feel petite and safe. She wanted so badly to just sink into him and lose herself in everything they were together.

  But…

  Francis read it in her eyes and sighed regretfully, pulling her palm to his lips once more before releasing her and stepping back. Her lips were swollen by his kisses, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright with desire, her hair falling in thick waves down her back. She was a postcard of lust and desire and still she would not allow herself to feel. What could have brought her to this, he wondered. What was holding her back? He shook his head.

  “I can see your answer, Eden. But why? You must know that this attraction between us is not something that comes along every day. It should be embraced. Not rejected.”

  Shaking her head in denial even as she acknowledged that truth in her heart, Eve merely whispered, “I can’t. I’m so sorry, but I do not want an affair with anyone. Even you.” The words were the truth and a lie.

  “Because it isn’t proper.” It wasn’t a question. “Widows have affairs every day. It is allowed. Discreetly, of course.”

  “I do not. Cannot.”

  “Even if you want to?” Francis saw her brow furrow and almost laughed. “Come, Eden, at least admit that you want to. I know you do. As I do.”

  He added those last words in such a low husky brogue, Eve had to physically move away, lest she succumb once more. She went to her dressing table and toyed with her brush, wishing he would leave. “Can we not just leave it as a ‘no, thank you’?”

  “Very polite, Eden. Ever polite.” The earl caught her reflection in the mirror, watching as she swallowed deeply and frowned.

  “Ever polite,” she repeated in a sad whisper that caught at Francis’ heart strings and made him relent.

  “Very well, Eden,” he conceded, feeling that she was on the verge of tears, though he knew not why. “I will let it go. I have no wish to cause you pain. But I will say that I enjoy your company and companionship too greatly to let you go completely. I must insist that you give me your friendship at least.”

  She met his eyes in the mirror. “You want to be my friend?”

  “Well, I do like you very much,” he teased, rousing a small if somewhat regretful smile from her.

  “I like you as well,” she returned in a tense, shaky whisper. “I would very much like for us to be friends. But no more kisses. I have my reputation to think about.”

  “No more,” he swore and cracked the door to ensure the hall was empty before stepping out. “I will see you at dinner then.”

  Eve nodded and watched as the door snicked closed behind him. “I am such a fool,” she mocked herself. “Friendship, indeed.”

  Chapter 17

  Francis might have claimed that friendship would be enough—and she did so want to have it as she simply enjoyed his company—but, as they gathered before dinner and as he was seating her at the table, he persisted in touching her. Her hand, her back. Her cheeks as she sat and he helped her into her chair. From the opposite end of the table, he shot her looks that alternated between longing and heated desire.

  Evelyn was not so innocent in the world that she did not know that he was seducing her indirectly with those looks and caresses. Worse was that, she wasn’t even sure he was aware of those little moments since she was certain of the sincerity of his promise to remain friends. The attraction between them was strong and unconscious. The urge to touch and look was beyond her control, and she could only hope that what was obvious to her did not seem so to the others.

  It wasn’t just a physical seduction but a mental one as well. Eve admired his humor and intellect. She liked that he made her laugh even in situations where she knew she should not. He teased her about her adherence to propriety. Yet he openly and honestly praised the skills with the bow that she had displayed that afternoon. Furthermore, he asked her opinions on social and political issues. Something her husband had never done throughout the entire course of their marriage. That in of itself held a strong allure.

  Still, the physical seduction, the touching had to be unconscious on his part, she thought again. It was as though he had to be in contact with her in some way at all times. Indeed, this she understood, for it simply felt good to have such tender contact. Such affectionate moments had never occurred with William. Francis was most lover-like, and the most terrifying part of it was that some portion of her wanted to become his lover in truth.

  Of course, Moira continued to openly flirt with him all through dinner as she was seated at his right, laughing freely at his jests and acting, in Evelyn’s opinion, much too familiar with him. She felt that Moira was developing an infatuation, though she had not admitted as much yet. If the shy nephew of the local bishop was appealing where she came from, then surely a man such as Francis was the most desirable gentleman that she’d ever come across.

  To her further annoyance, she found herself envying Moira her freedom to flirt with Francis.

  “Lord Glenrothes seems to enjoy your company a great deal, Moira,” she ventured that evening, as the ladies separated from the men and went to the parlor after dinner.

  “Oh, I’ve known them all forever. You know that.” Moira laughed lightly. “When I would visit Abby, she and I would sneak over to Glen Cairn and follow all the lads around like puppies. As we have gotten older, we’ve all become excellent friends. Eventually, Abby got her Richard, and you needn’t worry that I am after Francis because, for me, there has been only Vin.”

  “Vin? Oh, Vincent. Yes, I recall.” Vincent was the brother just a year younger than Francis according to the recitation he had given her years before, but now she was able to make the connection between that Vin and the young man Moira had been infatuated with since they were in boarding school. “I haven’t met him yet. Why is he not here?”

  “Vin was lost in Egypt more than five years ago.” Moira’s usually sunny demeanor dimmed a notch. “He, Richard, and my brother Jason all joined with the Queen’s army that last summer of boarding school. Do you remember? They came and went for a couple of years that last time almost six years ago. I’m sure I wrote you all about this, didn’t I? Well, when Richard came back without them, he admitted that they had been sent behind enemy lines, and Jason and Vin had both been captured.”

  “They were spying? Well, I’m sure you never told me that.”

  “Yes well, Richard got away. However when he went back searching, he could not find Vin or Jason, and they never came back,” this last came as the softest whisper.

  Eve squeezed her arm. “You loved him.”

  “No, I love him.” Moira corrected the tense
of the declaration. “True love does not just go away. I think if you pay attention, you’ll realize it for yourself.”

  Eve looked affronted. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do,” Moira poked back. “You shouldn’t have to think too hard about it.”

  * * *

  The gentlemen joined them a short time later. Eve watched as Francis skirted the perimeter of the room, having a word with his sister here, a brother there, but she was aware that his eyes were drawn back to her every few moments. As she was drawn to him, she admitted to herself. Watching him move toward her was in itself a breathtaking experience.

  For such a big man, the earl carried himself quite gracefully, rolling in an almost cat-like prowl that sent heat pooling between her thighs as she clenched them together in denial. His thigh muscles bunched and strained against his breeches. The long, narrowly cut trousers clung to his calves all the way to his shiny black shoes. When her eyes travelled back up over his gorgeous visage to meet his gaze, she found him watching her with a glint in his eye that she felt could only spell trouble for her and recognized her own fragile acknowledgement of the inevitable outcome of their attraction.

  She turned her attention determinedly to Moira as Moira played a light highland tune on the piano while laughing and teasing Jack. Francis’ sister, Fiona, danced lightly nearby holding her skirts high in traditional highland fashion.

  Still, Eve was aware of his position, so when he dropped down on the settee next to her, she wasn’t surprised. Though he laid an arm casually along the back of the settee, she maintained a proper posture with her hands folded in her lap and tried to ignore him. Or at least not lean toward him.

  As she continued to disregard him or even glance his way, his outstretched arm moved a little farther as he caught a loose curl at the back of her neck and twirled it about his finger. She shuddered—in anger? in excitement?—and slapped his hand away, glaring at him in reproach.

  Francis flashed her that same lopsided grin that had seemed to thaw her through the course of the day and was rewarded with a much different look from his lady. It was a look that begged, but for what, he wasn’t sure. Indeed, he wasn’t certain she even knew.

  “You must stop that, my lord.”

  “Francis,” he reminded yet again. “And what do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” she chided. “All the little touches, like just now and at dinner.”

  “Did I touch you at dinner?”

  “Don’t play that game with me.” He knew exactly what she meant, since his grin had taken on a mischievous bent. “And you must stop! People are starting to notice and comment upon it. Propriety—”

  “I care nothing about propriety,” he interrupted with a wave of his hand.

  “But I do.”

  The soft intensity of her words drew his attention, and he watched her twist her handkerchief in her lap. She was truly concerned, he realized.

  She continued. “I don’t want to be a source of gossip. Everyone here knows you, while I’m relatively unknown. I don’t want to be seen as your plaything.”

  “You are not a plaything, Eden. I would never consider you that way. Besides, it’s just family here.” As he’d indicated earlier, mostly it was just his family staying through the week’s end. But as well as the Roper girls and their father and aunt, there were also Abby’s two sisters and their husbands, a cousin up from London with her mother and, of course, Jack, Moira, and Moira’s great-aunt Edith, who acted as her chaperone, making it a large assembly indeed. He turned a bit in his seat so that he could face her, and for the first time, his expression was serious. “Let me be frank, Eden, if I may?”

  Wondering where this might be going, she gave him a stiff nod.

  “The attraction between us, and I do mean the physical attraction, is stronger now than it was eight years ago. On my part at least.” He looked at her quizzically, but Eve refused to let her demeanor waver. He sighed and continued. “I’ll be honest, darlin’ lass, I want you badly. I want to make love to—”

  “Francis!” Eve hissed, blushing scarlet to her roots that he would dare to bring up something so intimate in public. Aghast, she glanced around to see if anyone were close enough to overhear.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I dinnae mean to go on so, but my point, if I might make it, is that I have no intention of seducing you into my bed. I said before that I wouldnae, and I meant it. I ken your reputation means everything to you, and I wouldnae dream of having you do anything you might consider immoral.”

  “Well, thank you for that,” she replied dryly, thinking that he made her sound quite the prude with his statement.

  “But,” he went on, “I cannae help but touch you. I want so badly to do so.”

  “You cannot just keep doing so,” she chided, while admitting to herself it was not only because of the gossip it would prompt but also because of the havoc it played on her senses. The simplest of contact set her afire much as it had years before. “People will talk and assume what they will.”

  “I’ll do my best to control myself. I don’t want anyone to think we have become lovers.” No, indeed, he simply wanted to be lovers, he admitted to himself. He cared naught what anyone thought.

  “I don’t want anyone else to think that way either.”

  He looked into her bright green eyes and felt the pull of attraction that he wasn’t sure he had the power to fight. “Are you afraid of gossip, Eden, or are you afraid of me?”

  “I am not afraid of you.” But she was afraid of the way he made her feel. With a look, Francis tempted her to throw all caution to the wind, to fall into his arms just so that she could feel the power of their desire from head to toe. It was overwhelming, and it would be so easy. “Just, please, try to behave.”

  “I cannot make any promises,” he responded. “Even just sitting here, I want to move closer or even simply take your hand in mine.”

  “Try.”

  “I will,” he conceded, knowing if he was to succeed, he needed to keep some distance between them. “To that end, it might be best if we have a bit of entertainment to lighten the moment. What had you planned? Dancing, games? I know you had something planned.”

  She flushed and nodded.

  “I knew it. A game then? Aye?”

  She nodded again.

  “Shadows?”

  “No, I thought—”

  “Nay, don’t tell me. Let me guess. Charades?”

  She shook her head again trying to rein in the smile that threatened to escape her lips.

  “Then it must certainly be Blind Man’s Bluff!”

  Eve’s jaw sagged in astonishment. “How did you guess? There are dozens of games to choose from.”

  He grinned that special grin again as he stood and helped her to her feet. “Simple. It’s the one that will let me catch you and get a forfeit from you.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Can you guess what I will be asking for?”

  “I never planned—”

  He ignored her and turned to the room, calling for everyone’s attention. “Everyone, how about a game to lighten the evening? Perhaps a game of Blind Man’s Bluff would be fun?”

  A murmur of appreciation went through the room, and his sister jumped up and down clapping her hands before skipping over to him. “But Francis, you never want to play parlor games at home. You usually just sit in your office all night long, moping.”

  “Reading,” he corrected. “Well, for a change, everyone is here. Why not enjoy it?”

  Fiona looked at him suspiciously, studying his face as all the others in the room gathered to draw lots to go first. “What is it with you?”

  He looked down into the earnest face of his youngest sibling. “What do you mean, Blossom?”

  “Well, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you look almost…happy,” she decided uncertainly. She reached up and poked a finger between his brows. “The line is gone from there, and I believe I may have seen you smile a bit ago.”<
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  “Don’t be silly, Blossom,” he chided. “I smile all the time.”

  “No, Francis,” she said as she walked away. “You don’t.”

  Chapter 18

  Lots were drawn, and Francis’ brother, Tam, was ‘it’ first. After Tam was blind-folded, the other players scattered as quickly and quietly around the room as they could. He was spun around and sent on his way. Away he went, this way and that, coming first across the husband of one of Abby’s sisters, whom he was unable to identify by touch, and he moved on, coming next to Moira. He identified her with, Eve thought, more ‘touching’ than was needed before he announced her name and claimed his forfeit in a kiss much more enthusiastic than the game warranted, gaining hoots and whistles from around the room.

  The first round set the tone for the remainder of the game. Abby found her husband with unerring accuracy on her turn, claiming a kiss that almost had Eve blushing. Fiona, who lived with Richard and Abby for most of the year, applauded them without a hint of embarrassment. James found Abby’s sister whom he’d been flirting with earlier. Jack caught Fiona with a kiss that brought frowns to eight male faces in the room but a pleased blush to Fiona’s.

  Surprisingly, the gentlemen were never able to identify other men if they found them first.

  After being caught and identified by another of Francis’ brothers, Ian, Eve gracefully gave up a light kiss to the young man, and it was then her turn to take the blindfold. It was tied tightly, and she was turned about as the others rearranged themselves around the room. She reached out blindly before her, uncertain which way to go. Eve rotated left then right, hearing the giggles of the ladies as she took a step first in one direction, then another. A few steps and a turn to left brought her hand in contact with a male chest. Tall, fairly solid, nicely turned out tie. She had no idea. She wrinkled her brow. “Sean?”