An Improper Seduction (10 page)

For many moments, Angeline could feel the convulsions of her lover behind her. She had no doubt there would be bruises where his hands now held her. He had not taken the time to seduce her, to prepare her. His need had been too great. As his final tremors quieted, Angeline slid down to a prone position upon the bed. Her face buried in her crossed arms, a smile of pure triumph eased across it. She lay there savoring her victory while her lover threw himself onto the bed next to her in exhaustion, still trying to gain control of his breathing.

Minutes passed without a word from either, then Geoffrey rose to relieve himself of his clothing. He returned to the bed, naked at last, and wrapped his body around hers. As his arm came around her, he filled his hand with her breast. He bent his head low to whisper into her ear, “You little minx. You will pay for that.”

“Do you promise, my lord?” queried Angeline, her voice filled with the gloating she was still enjoying. She wiggled against him, her backside against his sex once again.

“You dare to tease me, Angeline? Have you not had enough just yet?” he growled.

“Do you want more, my lord? Could I possibly make you want more?” she crooned while she wiggled her lush bottom against him. “Surely, you have had enough and can control your needs further.”

“Careful, Angeline, or I will give you another good fucking,” he warned her off.

But Angeline was not about to take heed. She now knew for certain she could make him want her, make him need her, and the power was too much. Wiggling her bottom even more, arching her backside into him, she demanded, “Fuck me, my lord. Fuck me.”

Aroused to a passion again, Geoffrey flipped her onto her back in a move so quick and smooth Angeline was momentarily disoriented. Then he roughly used his legs to part hers, not hesitating when she was spread wide to plunge his rampant sex into her.

“Fuck you I shall, my lady,” he roared at her as he thrust into her once again. “And a good fucking it shall be.” Deeply he filled her, then drew back to tease her, playing at her entrance while she pushed her hips up to him.

Angeline could not wipe the smile from her lips. “Yes, Geoffrey. Fuck me. Show me how much you have need of me.”

His lips came down hard upon hers as his tongue forced its way into her heated mouth. Angeline groaned with the all-consuming feel of him, the heat and hardness of him, the unending need he was displaying once again. Their mouths grasped at each other’s, tongues entangling, searching, groping for satisfaction. All the while Geoffrey impaled her over and over again, bringing her need higher and higher while having a difficult time controlling his own.

It was finally he who broke over the crest first, tumultuously tensing, grabbing, gasping, impelling her to join him instantaneously. Together their bodies danced the dance of love while their minds and souls floated, intermingled and united binding them even closer than before, even closer than either could ever admit to themselves, much less to each other.

Chapter 11

The following day was balmy so, rather than be cooped up in the carriage, Angeline decided she would have Aphrodite saddled and she would ride into the village to the seamstress.

It quite surprised her that she no longer felt pain upon mounting her mare despite the intense lovemaking the night before. And intense it was. The thought of it made her flush and heat all over. Geoffrey was a wonderful lover. And he had been right, she would not have wanted to go to her grave without the experiences he had been sharing with her. The only remaining question she had—could she stand by and watch him wed another? Would her heart bear it? Or, should she compromise and marry him even if he did not love her? Any other woman would and would count herself lucky.

She had no answer so she tried to clear her mind and enjoy the ride to town.

She arrived at the seamstress’s shop, one Mrs. Flount, before the others. As usual, the seamstress was only too happy to see her.

“Oh, my lady,” Mrs. Flount effused, “it has been an age since you were here. I was so afraid my last dresses for you had not pleased you.” The generously proportioned, grey-haired lady slid her spectacles down her pugged nose and did her best at a curtsey.

“Nonsense, Mrs. Flount. The dresses were most adequate. The social activities here about just do not require a larger wardrobe.”

Mrs. Flount nodded in agreement, then added, “So, my lady, what can I help you with today?”

“Well, you will actually be helping someone else. I am here only as advisor.” With that, the shop bell rang as Miss Patience, Miss Prudence, and Gertrude entered. “And here is the young miss we will be assisting.”

“Oh, Lady Angeline,” Gertrude rushed forward to take both of her hands. “I cannot tell you how excited and grateful I am that you are here to help me today.”

“Quite so, Lady Angeline,” put in Miss Patience. “Prudence and I will be ever in your debt.”

Angeline released Gertrude to take each of the sisters’ hands in hers by turn. “Not necessary. You are my dearest friends. How could I ever let your niece make such decisions without my assistance when you were so kind to ask? It will be my pleasure.”

She turned back to the seamstress. “We are all here, Mrs. Flount. I think it best we get started. There is a ball put on by Viscount Hexford Friday next and this miss”—Angeline waved at Gertrude gracefully—”is in need of an appropriate gown. Let us look at your pattern books and see what we can contrive.”

Mrs. Flount led them all into the back of her shop. The next hour and a half were spent selecting a pattern, appropriate fabric, and the necessary trim. Gertrude was delighted with the outcome. Her face was all smiles as she fondled the soft, Dresden blue silk, which would make up her gown and complement her eyes. The ivory lace that lay next to it would be just the thing to make the dress elegant without being overdone. Angeline was sure the girl would look exceptional in the piece, and it would take her to the
Ton
for the Season as well.

The sisters and the niece bid the shopkeeper and Angeline goodbye. Angeline stood facing the door for a moment, tapping her right index finger against her chin.

“My lady, is there something else I could be helping you with?”

“A moment, if you please, Mrs. Flount. Just give me a moment to think.” The finger-tapping continued. Then she turned and smiled. “Yes, I think I, too, will have need of a new gown.” After all, she could not have some girl just out of the schoolroom eclipsing her own presence, now could she? Especially with the marquess there. Surely there must be some fabric and style which would take his breath away. And, then there would be later that night. . .

“Mrs. Flount, I think I would like to revisit the thought of a new gown for myself. Can you make the time?”

The seamstress’s face beamed. “Of course, my lady. I would be most honored to make you the dress of your choice. And, I think I have some new silks that would accent your hair and eyes wonderfully!”

It was nearly two hours later when Angeline opened the shop door to the sound of the tiny bell and stepped onto the walk. She was astonishingly pleased with herself. She could hardly wait to see the face of the mighty marquess when she wore her new confection to the ball Friday night.

Her happy mood was suddenly interrupted.

“Lady Angeline, how wonderful to see you here.” Viscount Hexford stood so close to her, she was nearly backed against the shop windows.

“My lord, how do you fare today?”

“Quite well, my lady. I see you have been to the seamstress.” His leer was not even subtle. “Have you bought a new gown for my gala? The invitations went out this morning. But of course, you knew you would be first on my list.”

“Why, yes. I thought it time to indulge. I may go up to London this Season and I thought a new gown would go to good use.” Angeline brought her hands up between them to tug on her gloves. Really, the man was just too forward. He should not be standing so close.

“I will be enchanted, then, to have you on my arm. Both Friday night and in London. We shall be
the
thing madam. Shall we not?”

His assumption was obvious and tasteless as well. “Well, my lord, I think that remains to be seen. In the meantime,” Angeline moved to turn away but the viscount blocked her path.

“I say, Angeline.”

She could not believe how Lord Hexford’s addresses to her were becoming more and more intimate despite her repeated warnings.

“Since you are here and so am I,” he went on, “how ‘bout we stop for a spot of tea at the inn?”

She opened her mouth but it was not her voice that emerged.

“I am afraid,” came the smooth deep voice of the marquess, “that will not be possible. Lady Angeline has other plans. She is having tea with me. Are you not, my dear?”

Angeline looked up to see the huge form of her lover standing next to her. She met his dark green gaze and sensed the humor dwelling there. He had her cornered. It was either him, or Lord Hexford. What choice was there? Her heart skipped a beat. Then another. She closed her mouth to regain her composure. “Yes, my lord. We had planned tea. Right after my visit to the seamstress.” She turned back to Hexford, doing her best to hide her relief in having a valid excuse not to take tea with his uncouth self. “I do apologize, my lord, I have previous plans.”

Hexford did not hide the scowl that contorted his face. “I see,” he said but the look of disbelief was plain. He did not in the least believe there had been prior plans. He bowed from the waist. “Until Friday evening then.” His face still contorted, he turned and walked away.

“I cannot but help to assist a damsel in distress.”

Geoffrey’s deep voice roiled through her. She tilted her face up to his once again.

“I had no need to be rescued. I would have begged off without a problem.” Her look was intentionally sharp.

Was that a smirk on his handsome face?

“Hexford is nothing if not persistent. I would not be so sure you would have refused his attentions. He is after you and he is not letting go easily.”

“It is none of your concern. I have handled him to this point. And, I shall continue to do so without your help.” Angeline turned to take her leave.

“He is still watching us from down the street. You are headed in the wrong direction. The inn is this way.” Geoffrey gently took her elbow and turned her around.

Her stomach fluttered nervously. It was always so when he touched her, no matter they were in public.

With reluctance, she allowed him to escort her to the inn. She hoped it was crowded with people taking tea and was much relieved to see it was so while Geoffrey had private words with the innkeeper.

Moments later, they were led to the only private dining room the tiny village inn had. Angeline’s heart thudded in her chest. It would not be good to be alone with him. She knew what happened every time they were in close proximity and alone. And in such a place as a public inn, the word would get out and she would be ruined, or, at the very least, compromised. It was bad enough she was not chaperoned, regardless of her age. How many people had seen her? What would they be saying only moments from now?

No sooner had the door shut behind Geoffrey then he caught her elbow once again to pull her into his arms. Her heart was beating loudly as she looked up into his face, his eyes burning with desire. She opened her mouth to chastise him but his lips fell on hers in a merciless kiss. She tried, oh how she tried, to hold herself away, but it was no use. In moments, her hands slid up around his neck and she was kissing him back. Her fingers tangled in his hair; his hands gently, intimately squeezed her bottom and pulled her against his aroused sex. Their tongues danced. Her head spun. When he finally released her, her knees were weak.

“Geoffrey, we shouldn’t, we can’t. Not here.”

His gaze was still afire as he drew his hands up from her derrière along her ribs, then gently closed around the swell of her breasts.

Angeline gasped, “No.”

He pulled her into his arms again and lowered his lips to her ear. “Yes, I know. This is not the place. But I cannot help myself when I am near you. Can you not feel me? I could take you right this moment and be done with it in seconds.”

She turned her hot face away.

He released her and took her to a seat on the far side of the table. “I’ll let you compose yourself now. They will be back with the tea at any moment.”

Just then, a knock came on the door and it swung open.

“Hope I weren’t too long, my lord,” said the innkeeper, his thin frame bearing up well under an overladen tea tray. “The missus has just finished these nice scones. They be fresh out of the oven. And the clotted cream was made just this very morning.”

“I’m sure it will all be quite well, Duncan.” Geoffrey settled himself across the table. He had pushed the chair back and sat down to extend his long legs in front of him. He looked every part the rake as his eyes glittered with their secret and he scanned her appearance.

Was her hair disheveled? Her dress askew? How did she let him take advantage of her like that? At least she knew he, too, was uncomfortable. She doubted his need could be dismissed as easily as that. She gave him a sharp glance and turned her head away.

The innkeeper left, the room becoming quiet once the door was closed, the noise from the inn barely a hum from beyond the portal.

He cleared his throat and, when she looked at him, his right eyebrow arched and lifted.

“You know this is improper,” she protested.

“Hardly at your ripe age, my dear.” The smile was more in his eyes than on his face but, it was there nonetheless.

“People will talk and they will not say kind things. And the viscount. He will chatter along with them. Geoffrey, this is just not proper.”

“My Angeline, the innkeeper can walk through that door at any moment. It is not locked. When I saw you fending off Hexford, I could not help myself. And, I get the graciousness of your company for a short while. How could I refuse? You’re just lucky I did not take you when I had you up against the door. I was ready, you know.”

She blushed. She felt it rush up over her breasts, her neck and into her face. “Geoffrey, you are too much by half.”

“My dearest Angeline,” he leaned forward to her now and looked at her solemnly. “That was not what you whispered to me last night when you were beneath me. If anything, I was not sure I would be enough.”

Angeline felt her color deepen. She didn’t think she could get any more embarrassed.

He leaned back in his chair. “Now, dearest, calm yourself and pour the tea. We shall endeavor to keep our lust under control and prove to each other we can act like rational adults.”

She did as she was asked and was quite surprised when the next hour passed in a delightful conversation. They spoke about Aphrodite and how she had ridden her into town. They discussed the upcoming ball, who would be there, and to whom the marquess should be introduced. And much more. The innkeeper checked on them regularly and not once did he find them in a compromising position. If he were to be asked later, Angeline was sure he would have to answer the tea was shared by two who were no more than good friends.

She hoped it would be so.

It was not until the innkeeper took his final leave and Geoffrey came round to assist her with her chair that her heart thudded again.

Once more, he pulled her into his arms and placed his lips on hers. Heated moments passed and Angeline questioned whether their restraint would hold.

Then he released her, holding her just long enough so that her weakened knees did not give out.

“Until tonight, my Angeline. We must see what mischief we can come up with to delight you anew.” He folded her hand in the crook of his elbow, opened the door, and led her from the inn. He escorted her back to her mare and there lifted her onto her horse as if she was naught but a feather.

“I’d escort you home, my lady, but my business here has not been completed. Is there a groom I can find for you?”

“No, my lord. As you said, I am far too old to need the protection or scrutiny of a chaperone.” She nodded her head and turned toward home.

The moon was waxing toward full and the sky was abundant with stars as Angeline approached the cottage. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo and her stomach clenched with the thought of being in Geoffrey’s arms again.

Would it ever change? Just that afternoon he had held her and kissed her in the inn. She had lost all control. It was he who had stopped the encounter before it had gotten out of hand.

Thank God one of them could maintain some semblance of balance. Yet, she had to admit, she liked it when he lost control over her.

She rounded the corner of the small building and approached the front door. It was open and the warm glow of candlelight spilled into the darkness.

She stepped into the doorway, a hand placed on each side of the jamb.