Twice the Temptation (25 page)

The countess’s timing was much to be desired. He caught Catherine’s gaze and sent her a silent bid for understanding before directing his attention to the countess. A woman he should actually be thanking for unwittingly helping to bring he and Catherine back together. 

“Unfortunately, my sisters and I are just about to leave.” He was all smooth politesse addressing the woman as if she hadn’t already propositioned him an hour ago. 

“Oh but you can’t.” Not only did she look disappointed but piqued as well. 

“Oh but he can,” Catherine interjected quickly. Perhaps a tad
too
quickly. Then as if realizing how her actions may appear to others, she gave the countess the kind of smile that failed to brighten the eyes. “What I mean to say is that Miss Fairchild is unwell. As their escort and the attentive brother that he is, Mr. Beaumont shall, of course, see to his sisters’ comfort and welfare.” 

Lady Ramsey’s protests died then. Ignoring her limpid eyes and the prominent pout of her red lips, Lucas politely bid her goodbye and did the same to their hosts. 

Fifteen minutes later, ten of which Lady Olivia spent assuring her chaperone that Catherine would be perfectly safe traveling home with Lucas and his sisters, they boarded the carriage and started down the dark road toward the cottage. 

“Since our lodgings are on are the way, I will see you both home first and then Miss Rutherford,” he informed his sisters once the carriage was in motion. 

Catherine sat with Caroline across from him and Lydia. In the darkness, he couldn’t see her face but he imagined a blush had now overtaken it. 

“That is perfectly fine with me. These shoes are pinching my feet abominably,” Caroline complained. 

“But I should have liked to see Charlotte,” Lydia said. 

“I’m no longer staying with my sister. I returned home yesterday. I live with my brother and his family,” Catherine explained. 

“Did you not say that your brother and his family are in London?” Lucas asked. 

“Actually, they should have returned last week when Parliament recessed but decided to visit my sister-in-law’s brother and his wife in Devon. Amelia is expecting their third child at the beginning of June and did not return to London with Thomas after Christmas. She and Missy are extremely close so as you can imagine, she is most eager to see her again.” 

The only thing Lucas took from her statement was that she would be alone tonight. He digested the news in silence as his body celebrated, his cock already stirring. Dear God, couldn’t the carriage go any faster?  

“So you are alone?” Lydia inquired, echoing Lucas’s thoughts though obviously with not the same lustful musings. 

“I would hardly call a house full of servants alone,” Catherine replied, her voice tinged with amusement. 

“Lucas would never permit us to be at home alone despite the fact that I shall reach the age of majority in a few months. Why I’ve known girls who were married with a child at the age of seventeen.” Lucas felt rather than saw Caroline’s gaze shift in his direction. 

“Please don’t compare your situation with Miss Rutherford’s. New York and Reading are vastly different,” he replied, in his defense. 

It was not a secret that Caroline sometimes chafed under his rules. But then she was a young lady who didn’t always know what was best for her. Lacking proper guidance from their mother, as her older brother it fell to him to ensure her safety and wellbeing no matter what the cost. And even if the cost meant heated arguments and the slamming of bedroom doors. 

Catherine’s tinkling laughter filled the interior of the cab. “My dear, I believe I can safely say that I have you at more than a few years advantage, which makes me too old for a governess as my brother knows. When I do require a chaperone, I am fortunate enough to have two respectable married women to choose from. And should neither be available, Olivia and Meghan are more than willing to have me make use of theirs.” 

“I sorely wish I had someone like Charlotte to act as my chaperone,” Caroline declared and turned to look out the window, where they passed nothing but fields and the odd dwelling under the night sky. 

“You’ve done one better because you have me,” Lucas replied facetiously, trying to lighten her mood. 

Lydia giggled and Catherine coughed in a futile attempt to cover a laugh. Caroline mumbled something under her breath. Lucas caught the words
overbearing
and
space
. 

For the rest of the journey, Caroline remained inordinately quiet, which had Lucas thinking that maybe his sister had taken the dissolution of her betrothal to Lord Billings harder than she’d been letting on thus far. 

Once they arrived, he quickly ushered his sister’s into the house, deflecting Lydia’s question as to when he would be returning. When he climbed back into the carriage, instead of resuming his seat across from Catherine, he proceeded to sit right next to her. Close. 

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN
 

C
atherine gulped as Lucas climbed back into the landau, butterflies taking flight in her belly, her nerves taut with anticipation. “Is Caroline going to be alright? She seemed dispirited.” Her concern was genuine but she was also trying to act as normal as possible.

“You needn’t worry about my sister. By tomorrow she’ll be back to usual charming self,” he said with an assurance that put her mind at ease. No doubt, he knew his sister better than most. 

“So your brother and his family are out of town?” he asked in a dark, purring voice that started setting off sparks inside her. 

All she could do was give a self-conscious nod for she knew precisely on what and where his thoughts centered. In scope and proximity, hers came close as well. The imagination was a dangerous thing to behold. 

She felt his bare hand slide over her arm and down to her hand. Her heart accelerated as he patiently peeled her glove off…one finger at a time. She watched in silence as he did the same to the other one. Catherine would never have imagined that glove removal could be so seductive. She was practically panting by the time he’d finished. 

“Is your brother aware that you’ve left your sister’s residence? You’re very fond of Lord and Lady Armstrong, did you not want to go to Devon as well?” 

There was no censure in his question, but Catherine still felt the need to defend her brother and his wife. “I was invited to go but I refused.” 

“Why?” he asked, running his finger gently over the back of her hand, his leg now flush against hers. 

Her breath caught in her throat. He shifted closer, his other hand coming up to cup her cheek, turning her face toward his. He leaned in and his breath misted her lips. 

“I preferred to remain here,” she replied, more breath than speech. Her heart pounded so loud in her ears, she couldn’t hear herself think. His face was shrouded in all hues of the night darkness but she could see his lips hovering over hers. 

“Why?” he persisted before brushing her mouth in a kiss. 

Catherine emitted a sound of want, yearning. It was becoming difficult to keep her eyes open. 

“Because you are here,” she whispered, knowing that was what he wanted to hear. In hopes her admission would end her torment. 

“Yes,” was all she heard before his mouth took hers. Impatient, hungry, and hot enough to start her burning, the kiss didn’t flicker to life, it exploded. Catherine angled her body and wrapped her arms around his neck, and held on tight. 

“God, I missed you,” he groaned into her mouth before taking the kiss deeper. Their tongues traded greedy parries and thrusts leaving Catherine a prisoner of the passion that blazed between them. 

The hand at her waist slipped under her cloak to track a relentless path to the underside of her breast. Once it arrived at its destination, he palmed it softly in his hand. In response, her nipples became ruched buds of need and the ache between her legs turned into full-blown throbbing. She squirmed to try to relieve herself of the building pressure. 

Dragging his mouth from hers, he whispered hoarsely, “I want to touch you.” 

She would have laughed were she able. Was he not touching her? Her lips, her breasts? God she wanted to touch
him
. 

His hand found her bottom and lifted her until she could feel his erection hard and stiff against her. “I want inside you so badly, I cannot think straight,” he growled, trailing moist kisses from her chin down to her neck. 

His words destroyed her, wrecked her inside and out. She squirmed, tightened her arms around his neck, and pulled his mouth back up to hers. 

This time the kiss eclipsed hungry, crossing the line over to gluttonous all too quickly. She could not get enough of him. His delectable lips and talented tongue worked their magic on her, reduced as she was to a heaving, breathless mass, desperate to take from him all he had to give—and then some. 

Never had a kiss felt as if drowning in desire held more appeal than breathing with ease and comfort. Never had she felt so alive while floundering in the grips of a force she had no wish or will to oppose. 

His fingers played with her nipple through layers of muslin and satin, rolling the tight bud between his fingers. And with each stroke, roll, rub, her center contracted, the ache there growing increasingly and deliciously unbearable. 

God she wanted to touch him.
And she did, pushing her hand between them to rub the heel of her palm along the steely length of him and grip as much of him over his trousers. 

With an anguished groan, he broke the kiss. His harsh breathing mixed with her pants of sexual distress. 

She squeezed his hard member to remind him the pleasures that awaited him. “Lucas,” she implored, and tried to bring his mouth back down to hers. 

“Not here, my love,” he gasped, both hands coming up to hug her tight against him, his cheek pressed to the side of her head. “I don’t want your first time to be in a carriage.” 

C
atherine immediately stiffened in his arms and he knew something was wrong. Had he assumed too much? No, he could not have given how wild she’d been in his arms. She soon removed her hand from the front of his trousers and his cock throbbed at the loss.

Slowly he pulled his head back and peered into her eyes. He could only make out the outline of her face. “What?” She couldn’t say she didn’t want it just as much as he did. 

“I—you are right. We shouldn’t— Not here.” 

A moment ago, she had been fire in his arms, her kiss greedy and demanding. And then with a few ill-chosen words, she gone stiff and proper. He should have kept his trap shut. 

“In your bed then?” he asked huskily, lowering his head to nibble the spot behind her ear. He knew how to ignite her passions again. 

“The servants,” she protested weakly, trying to wiggle away from him. 

Frowning, he raised his head again and regarded her. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? And don’t tell me that nothing is or I’ll know you’re lying.” 

When she shifted in silence, he drew back and slid several inches away from her on the leather seat to permit her space for it was obvious that’s what she desired. 

The silence was broken only by the clatter of wheels and the rhythmic pounding of the horses hooves. Inside the carriage, it was broken by nothing and no one. 

“It wouldn’t be my first time.” Her voice was small and trembled. 

Lucas had never been a prude. In his thirty-four years, he’d taken many lovers. Once he’d even thought himself in love only to realize he’d been thinking with his cock not his head or his heart. Pure was the last thing he’d have called the women he’d taken to his bed, so purity in that sense didn’t much matter to him. 

Or so he thought until Catherine’s announcement shocked him further into silence. 

When it became clear she had no intention on expounding on what she’d just said, Lucas cleared his throat and asked, “When I was here last, you’d led me to believe that you’d never been in love before. That you in fact, had never before been serious about any gentlemen.” 

“I hadn’t.” 

Oh. He mulled her response over in his mind as he again opted for silence instead of demanding she tell him who and when. Alienating her wouldn’t help the matter. 

“Then how is it that I—that I’m not to be your first?” he asked as if it were the next logical question of which he was owed an answer. 

“How many women have you taken to your bed?” No hint of trepidation, she sounded cool and calm now and there was a bite of defensiveness to her tone. 

Before he could respond, they drew to a stop. Catherine pushed aside the curtain and the lights within Rutherford Manor filtered into the carriage, illuminating her face. 

“Well?” 

Her hand stilled on the curtain, she looked askance at him. 

“I’d very much like an answer to my question first,” Lucas replied tersely, surprised and troubled by his reaction but seemingly incapable of tempering it.