An Unexpected Earl

by Anna Harrington

  “Howard was demanding an answer, and I had to tell him something,” he explained calmly. “I bought us more time.”

  She almost laughed. “Little more than twelve hours!”

  “During which I’ll have thought of another way to stall him. Besides,” he reminded her grimly, “he’s already introduced the bill. The wheels have been set in motion, whether we like it or not.”

  “And the rest of it?” she pressed. “The part about not going ahead with this unless I willingly agree?”

  “I meant every word.” His blue eyes softened. “I would never betray you.”

  Her shoulders deflated, the anger slowly easing out of her. She wanted to believe him, so very much…but could she?

  “Perhaps it’s time that we stop arguing,” he suggested, “and start working together.”

  A ball of heat formed at the base of her spine. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged, and the rakish movement started a liquid burn twisting up her spine, coiling its way through her and replacing all residual traces of her anger with tingling warmth. “You want to save your charity, and we both want to find out who’s been blackmailing your brother. Working separately has gotten us nowhere except speeding up the creation of the turnpike trust.”

  “I know.” But together… Could she truly do it? Warily, she asked, “What do you propose?”

  “A compromise. You tell me everything you know about your brother and his blackmailer.”

  When he didn’t continue with the second half of his terms, she prompted, “How is that a compromise?”

  “I didn’t say it was a compromise for me.”

  She folded her arms across her bosom and coolly arched a brow.

  “But it will work to keep you safe.” His eyes twinkled in amusement. “And out from behind screens.”

  Oh, that devil! Before she could give him the setdown he deserved, he shoved himself away from the table, took her upper arms in his hands, and placed a kiss to her forehead, very effectively silencing her in surprise.

  “Wouldn’t it be so much better if we were working together rather than at odds?” he murmured against her temple before returning to his perch on the table, in that same raffish pose as before. “Think of all the war widows we could help then.”

  With a capitulating sigh, she dropped her hands to her sides. The rascal knew exactly how to attack her defenses to get what he wanted. Always had. Apparently, some things never changed.

  “All right,” she agreed cautiously. “We’ll work together. I’ll tell you everything I know about the blackmail and what Freddie’s been doing with those appointments.” She wagged a finger at him. “But in return, you promise not to agree to anything else regarding the turnpike until you talk to me first.” She had no choice but to add, “And you’ll understand that other parts of my life are out of bounds, that you won’t try to pry if I don’t tell you everything about them.”

  “And how is that working together if you keep secrets from me?”

  She tossed his words back at him. “I didn’t say it was a compromise for me.”

  A slow grin crossed his face at her cheekiness, one that stole her breath away. “All right, I agree. You?”

  An excited tingle began to lick at her toes. “Agreed.”

  When his eyes gleamed into hers with a look that told her that he had completely different ideas of together and compromise than she did, the tingle turned into a jolt of electricity that shot straight out through the top of her head. Dear heavens, what had she just gotten herself into?

  “So all terms have been agreed to and business concluded for the evening, then?” he asked.

  “I suppose so. Freddie thinks you’ll—”

  “Good. Then we can skip from business to pleasure.”

  She laughed nervously. “I don’t believe that was mentioned in any of our negotiations, do you?”

  Ignoring her question, he murmured instead, “You are simply stunning.”

  “Stop that,” she scolded. But she also couldn’t help the ribbon of pleasure that wrapped around her at his compliment. “We should return to business, then. What you said about the trust—”

  “You were beautiful the night of the masquerade. But tonight…” His gaze slowly drifted over her black dress, lingering in places that simmered heat low in her belly. He mused in a tempting purr, “Tonight, you’re glowing.”

  “Stop that,” she repeated. This time the scolding emerged as a throaty rasp, lacking all bite. She was certain that she did glow then—with a scarlet flush.

  When his gaze slid over her bosom, she could almost feel the solidity of his hand caressing her flesh. “I saw it in you at your shop, how special you’ve become. Every inch of you confident, strong…glorious.”

  This time, she couldn’t find the breath to say anything at all.

  “It’s true.” He pushed himself away from the table and stalked toward her. “I always thought you were pretty, always knew that you’d grow up to be beautiful.” He reached up to stroke her cheek. “But I had no idea exactly how exquisite you would become.”

  Cupping her face against his palm, he leaned down to kiss her—

  “And I had no idea how much of a silver-tongued devil you’d become.”

  He paused, his mouth barely a hairsbreadth from hers and so close that she could feel the heat of his lips tickling hers as they curled into a grin.

  “I can show you exactly how much.” He followed that wanton challenge with a gentle lick across her bottom lip, a light and teasing caress that elicited a shiver from her. “Would you like that?”

  Whatever logical thought had been left inside her scattered like petals on the wind. She made one last, desperate attempt to reclaim them, only for them to fall through her grasp when she curled her fingers into the diamond pattern of his brocade waistcoat. A waistcoat that should have been pure black.

  “You broke the rules,” she whispered.

  “There are no rules for this.” He lowered his head and claimed the kiss.

  She caught her breath, tensing for a fleeting moment as his mouth found hers. Insistent yet soft, his lips moved against hers in a cajoling plea to surrender to the pleasure of being in his arms.

  Unable to stop herself, she did just that. Her hands slipped over his shoulders to encircle his neck and tug herself closer, pressing into his hard front as she melted against him and opened her mouth to his with a soft whimper of capitulation.

  Kissing him was utterly divine. Today in her shop hadn’t been a fluke. Hadn’t been just a trick of her imagination that he kissed as pleasurably as he did. No, it was him and the way he made her feel…feminine and free, special, cherished. As he’d always done. As he was doing now. And God help her, as she knew no other man ever could.

  “Pearce,” she whispered achingly and turned her mouth away to recapture her breath. But he didn’t release her, and the sweet torture of being in his arms began to overwhelm her.

  The door handle rattled.

  Without warning, he grabbed her around the waist and propelled her behind the screen before she could protest. Then he clamped a hand over her mouth to make certain she didn’t when the door opened.

  “Be quiet,” he urged into her ear from behind her. “You’ll be ruined if we’re found together.”

  Breathing hard, she silently nodded.

  Two sets of heavy footsteps trod inside the room, accompanied by men’s voices. Her heart beat so fiercely that the blood rushing through her ears nearly deafened her, and she took several long seconds to realize that one of the men was Arthur Varnham. Sir Charles’s younger brother.

  “…saw him coming in here just a few minutes ago,” he announced as he crossed the room.

  The man who was with him said something that Amelia couldn’t quite make out.

  “Not for nothing. Cognac.”

&n
bsp; Another mutter from near the door, this time full of irritation. Please leave. Please just turn around and go… The very last thing she needed was to give anyone in the Varnham family more ammunition with which to destroy hers.

  “Not that sludge they’re serving the guests. Real cognac. From the finest French smugglers this side of Ramsgate.” His voice grew closer, and Amelia offered up a prayer that they wouldn’t be found. “Ha! Devonshire is nothing if not predictable.”

  She couldn’t have missed the derogatory sneer in his voice at that, or the sound of liquid splashing into two glasses, the scrape of boots on the floor moving toward the fireplace, the clank of metal as one of the men picked up the poker and jabbed at the fire to stir up the coals.

  Good Lord, they were settling in for the evening! She and Pearce were trapped behind the screen, with no way to escape.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered into her ear, barely louder than a breath.

  No! But she nodded anyway, only to reassure him. What was one little lie when they would be found at any moment?

  “We’ll be safe here until they leave.” Confident now that she wouldn’t cry out and give them away, he removed his hand from her mouth. “They’ll finish their drinks soon.”

  But that assertion did nothing to put her at ease, certainly not when he slipped both arms around her and pulled her against him, her back touching fully along his hard front.

  Her heart leapt against her ribs, so hard that she was sure Pearce could feel it. After all, she could certainly feel the pounding of his beating steadily against her own back, just as she felt the hardness of his front against her, the strength of his arms encircling her waist like iron bands. The heat of him soaked into her and turned her insides molten.

  She had to put space between them. Now. She wiggled in his arms—

  He sucked in a mouthful of air and clamped his arm over her hips, forcing her to stand still against him. “Don’t do that,” he rasped into her ear.

  “Why not?” she mouthed. His warm breath tickling at her earlobe tumbled a shiver through her. Dear heavens, she needed to move away from him before he realized the wanton sensations his nearness stirred inside her.

  In answer, he shifted to bring his pelvis against her. She caught her breath. He wasn’t fully aroused, but the hardening bulge pressing into her bottom was unmistakable.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  “I’m not. After all, if I’m going to be caught, then…” He followed that whisper with a soft suck to her earlobe that pulled through her, all the way down between her legs.

  Oh, this was dangerous. So very, very dangerous! To be pressed against him like this again, after all these years—

  No. This was nothing like before when she was a girl and he’d sneaked into her bedroom for long talks into the night, for stolen kisses and embraces. His shoulders were broader than before, his arms more muscular and strong. She bit back a groan. Good Lord, his abdomen was just as hard as his chest! Before, he’d been on the cusp of manhood, still a bit lanky and too full of energy to control himself completely when he was with her. But this—

  His hands rubbed deliberately over her hips in a slow caress that burned through her like wildfire. This was pure control.

  He spread his long fingers wide as he swept them down her thighs and back up to her waist. One scandalously rested against her lower belly, while the other moved slowly upward to place featherlight caresses against the top swells of her breasts above her neckline. So gentle and soft… When he placed a kiss to her temple, the tenderness of it made her shiver.

  Less than a dozen feet away, the two men continued to drink and talk, their conversation punctuated by laughter. But Amelia heard none of it. At that moment, her entire world was nothing more than the wonderful circle of Pearce’s arms.

  His mouth returned to her ear, and the tip of his tongue circled slowly around its outer curl before plunging inside in a swirling lick that twisted all the tiny muscles in her belly into a roiling knot. Right beneath where his left hand rested. The same hand that now started to move in slow circles against her lower abdomen and created an ache between her legs that pulsed in time to his heartbeat throbbing against her back.

  When they’d been younger, kissing him had been fun. And forbidden. And even more fun because of that. It had been nice.

  But now, of all the sensations he churned inside her, niceness wasn’t one of them.

  “Pearce—”

  “Shh,” he whispered. “They’ll hear you.”

  She bit her lip. If he kept touching her like this, they’d definitely hear her, when a whimper of longing tore from her.

  He moved his hands expertly over her body now, as if attempting to know her again as he once had, to discover the woman she’d become.

  She clamped her arms to her sides, fighting back the rising desire to surrender to the past. How easy it would be to give over and let herself indulge in the pleasures he could give, even small ones, even here, trapped behind the screen. This embrace didn’t have to lead to anything more—couldn’t, in fact. They’d missed their chance.

  But at this moment, she could allow herself a small bit of pleasure, a reminder of what they could have shared had life not interfered. She could pretend that he still belonged to her.

  With a sigh of surrender, she closed her eyes and rolled back her head, her fists relaxing at her sides as she let herself go.

  “Yes,” she breathed out her permission.

  He kissed the side of her neck in an openmouthed caress that sent her spinning. The tip of his tongue flicked against her spiking pulse, and he smiled against her throat at discovering the effect he had on her. Oh, that arrogant devil…that dashing and bold man who now had her trembling as he slid his mouth down her neck to the slope of her shoulder. Who had her foolishly longing for more than these few stolen touches.

  When his hand slipped down to cup the fullness of her breast, her nipple tightened into an aching point despite the thickness of the stays that dulled his touch against her sensitive flesh. They’d done far more than this that last summer they were together, but his touch had never felt like this…so pleasing, so confident.

  His fingers slipped beneath her neckline to caress her bare breast—

  She gasped. So sure of what she wanted from him.

  Still leaving hot kisses against the side of her neck, he began to tease at her nipple. His wickedly skilled fingers alternated between tender caresses and hard pinches that had her arching her back against him to bring her breast harder against his hand, that had her panting in soft, shuddering little breaths.

  She wanted this. And more—she wanted to turn back time and make the last decade vanish, to claim back all those years she’d lost with him. The moment poured over her like a warm summer rain, and she simply couldn’t deny herself.

  So she took his hand, laced her fingers through his, and slowly slid it down her front. Only a moment’s hesitation at her lower belly where butterflies somersaulted beneath the warmth of his palm…then deliberately lower between her legs. Lifting her skirt with her other hand, she guided him beneath to that aching place at her core.

  He tensed against her, then breathed out a jerking sigh, as if he couldn’t believe that she wanted this intimate caress. With every ounce of my being. She slowly moved his hand against her in a gesture of silent permission.

  “Amelia,” he breathed into her ear, then began to stroke her.

  She couldn’t stop the shudder of pleasure that swept through her as he teased at her folds, now growing damp and hot beneath his fingertips. Pearce was the only man who had ever touched her like this. That last summer, the month before she turned sixteen—the first time he’d dared to slip his hand beneath her skirt. His fingers had trembled against her then, too, the way they did now. But then the cause had been the eager excitement of a green lad being granted a fleet
ing and forbidden pleasure. Yet now he trembled from something far more intense. So did she.

  Without warning, he froze. His hand stilled between her legs while the other darted up to cover her mouth.

  “Shh,” he whispered, that soft warning flashing her attention back to the two men in the room with them.

  Forcing her pleasure-fogged brain to function, she held her breath and listened. The soft clink of glasses being set aside, the creak of furniture as the two men rose to their feet, the scuffle of boots—

  They were leaving. Finally. But the relief that sped through her was punctuated by a spike of disappointment when Pearce slipped his hand away from her and let her skirt fall down into place.

  The door closed shut with a soft click.

  Sanity rushed through her. What she’d been about to do—oh, she simply couldn’t! It was all too late for them. For this—

  “Let go,” she forced out, moving to twist herself out of his arms.

  “Amelia—”

  “Let me go!”

  Immediately, he released her, and she dove out from behind the screen.

  Panting hard to catch back the breath he’d stolen, she stumbled backward, putting the distance of the room between them…because she wanted nothing more than to remain right there in his arms. Oh, even closer than that! She wanted him inside her. And that was the one thing she absolutely could not allow.

  He stepped out from behind the screen, slowly, as if she were a doe he didn’t want to startle. “What’s wrong?”

  Everything. Simply everything! “I-I can’t—I’m sorry. I thought I could, but…” She pressed her hand against her forehead and breathed deeply to calm herself. But it wasn’t working. Especially when he so rakishly leaned a hip against the writing table and waited patiently for her to explain. Although to explain… A dark laugh strangled in her throat. How could she ever explain this part of her life to him? “I can’t do this.”

  “But you want to,” he challenged quietly in a velvety voice that wrapped itself invitingly around her like a warm cloak on a winter’s night. “Why not take what you want?”