A Scoundrel by Moonlight (17 page)

T
he woman with brilliant amber eyes kneeling on the bed was a breathtaking stranger. A magical curtain rippled around her. Soft as mist. Shining as the moon. Hints of subtle gold like shadows on silver. Leath looked at Eleanor’s unbound hair and thought of clouds and lace and filigree.

The abundance transformed her pure beauty to fierce magnificence. For so long, he’d yearned to see her like this. She was no longer self-contained Miss Trim, who had tantalized him for weeks. Instead she was a creature of fire and ice. She was the perfect mixture of allure and restraint. His desire mounted higher. And triumph, however unworthy, rose too.

Tonight this luscious creature would lie in his arms. He had the privilege of teaching her joy. Feeling that he touched something outside the realm of earth, he buried his hands in the silky hair, glorying in its texture. Then holding her face up, he pressed his lips to hers.

She trembled, reminding him that for all her lush beauty, she was new to this. His conscience howled, but the satiny
slide of her hair in his hands and her warm scent made him deaf to principle.

All his life he’d tried to do the right thing. Mostly he’d succeeded. But when it came to Eleanor Trim, he tumbled headlong into sin. And smiled as he faced damnation.

He kneeled before her and kissed her long and luxuriously. She tasted like the promise of spring, even as winter settled its icy grip around them.

When she was sighing and kissing him back eagerly, he released the top button of her gray dress. The moment when the linen collar parted to reveal her throat thundered through him like victory. Still kissing her, he rested the tips of his fingers on the intriguing notch in the center of her collarbone, feeling her pulse kick and flutter.

He leaned closer and released another button. Then another as he nipped at her bottom lip, drawing a whimper of pleasure from her. Her excitement made his heart leap.

Leath stroked the sweet skin he’d uncovered. When he’d touched her like this before, he’d been too carried away with the encounter’s unexpectedness. Tonight he intended to take his time. Not just because she was a virgin. He’d wanted this woman for so long, he meant to engrave each incandescent detail on his mind. Even when he was a very old man, he’d relive the softness of her skin, her ragged breathing, her scent.

Another button. This was like undressing a nun. A nun whose mouth blazed passion and whose hair flowed in silvery temptation.

Six buttons. Six small victories. He slipped one hand under her gaping bodice and cupped her breast. He was gentle, leashing his hunger. She made another choked sound against his mouth. When his thumb flicked her nipple, she squirmed, squeezing closer.

She might hide her sensuality under plain dresses and
severe hair, but he’d known from the first that her soul was flame. Now when she delivered herself to his caresses with an abandon that made his heart somersault, he realized that every fantasy fell short of warm, living reality.

“Eleanor, Eleanor, Eleanor,” he murmured, setting a rain of kisses to the corners of her lips, across her cheeks, down her neck. Every inch was glorious. He found a place at the curve of her shoulder where the scrape of his teeth had her crying out.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Yes, my darling, don’t hide what you feel.”

Eleanor released a choked laugh, even as she quaked under another nip to her neck. “You make me wild.”

Her voice cracked. She didn’t sound like his efficient secretary or the woman who had dared him with her eyes even when pretending humility. He beat back his triumphalist mood and managed to speak softly, although determination infused every word. “I want to make you wild.”

The wonder was that he’d just started. He teased her nipple with more purpose, rolling, pinching, stroking, making her pant.

Until on a harsh cry, she shuddered, her hands gouging his shoulders.

Dear God in heaven. She’d come with just his touch on her breast. She’d go up like fireworks before they were done.

Humbled, he drew back to see her. She looked flushed and startled. And voluptuous. Her mouth was red and full. Slowly she opened her eyes until he drowned in topaz, radiant with lingering pleasure. And the seeds of knowledge. A reminder to take his time, get everything right. They had days—and nights—ahead.

An uncertain smile teased her lips. “That was…”

He smiled back. Nobody in his life made him smile like
Eleanor did. If she left, his life would become a prison. “Surprising?”

Her smile widened and her eyelids lowered in a carnal expression that had him fighting the urge to push her onto her back now. “Well, that too.”

He slid his hand from her breast, delighting in the way her hair tangled about his wrist as if every part of her strove to cling to him. “I need to see you.”

“I hope you’ll return the favor.”

Shocked, he stared at her. “Really?”

She nodded. “I’m sure you’re quite magnificent.”

Heat seared his cheekbones. “I’m a horridly big bugger.”

Her laugh held a sultry note and he recalled that he’d never intimidated Miss Trim.

“I love how overwhelmed I feel in your arms.” She licked her lips and he bit back a groan. That mannerism had provoked him for months. “The effect would be even more powerful if you took your shirt off.”

“As you wish, my lady.” He felt no awkwardness addressing her as a woman of his class. Outside in the workaday world, a gulf as wide as the Atlantic separated them. Here, in this quiet room, they met face to face as equals, united in desire.

His hands shook as he shrugged off coat, neckcloth, waistcoat, and finally his shirt.

“Oh.”

Did that tiny squeak indicate disappointment? The attention she fixed on his chest made him squirm. He was built like a prize fighter—in London, he regularly sparred at the fashionable boxing saloons. His size daunted most men. To Eleanor, he must seem a hulking ox.

Thick black hair covered his chest, proof of his animal nature. Dismay twisted his gut. Perhaps this first time, he
should take her in darkness. True, he’d miss the wonder of seeing her, and he’d spent so many lonely nights imagining her naked. But someone so large and blatantly male must terrify a girl who had never known a man.

Dear God, wait until she saw his cock. If his chest made her nervous, she’d run screaming once she caught sight of it. He wasn’t a monster. He knew he was in proportion. But his proportions were notably generous. He’d managed previous encounters without injuring his partners, but Eleanor was a virgin. Perhaps he should ask her to close her eyes when he removed his breeches.

Still, she didn’t speak.

“I warned you,” he said gruffly when the silence became unbearable.

“Yes, you did,” she murmured, licking her lips again. Damn, he wished she’d stop doing that. It did awful things to his heart rate.

“I won’t crush you.”

At last she raised her eyes and delighted astonishment shuddered through him. “I don’t mind if you do.”

“Eleanor…” he said helplessly, seizing her shoulders.

Her expression dazzled him. “Do you have any idea what the sight of you does to me?”

“You’re not afraid?” he asked shakily, fingers curling into her shoulders.

Her laugh cracked. “Of course I’m afraid. I’ve never done this before. But I’m also… excited.”

“Oh, my darling.” Moved by her honesty, he kissed her with all the gratitude in his heart. Gratitude that she was here. Gratitude that she wanted him.

Through the kiss, he felt her tentative touch on his chest. One glancing connection before she snatched her hand away. His skin tightened. The next time, she lingered. Her
other hand dared a quick caress. He groaned encouragement against her lips. She leaned in with more purpose.

Her lips left his to follow the path of her hands. The hot innocence of her kisses made him burn. Everywhere she touched, she branded him hers.

“Hell.”

She stopped kissing his nipples. “Don’t you like this?”

He tried to smile, but he’d wager it was a grimace. “Too much.”

“Good.” She scraped her teeth over his nipple and he stifled another oath. “A man’s body is so… interesting.”

In a fury of impatience, he tugged the demure dress over her head, leaving her in her plain white shift and corset. He wasn’t sure why, but her practical clothing made his heart constrict with emotion.

“You have no idea how these puritanical frocks have taunted me.” He flung the dress across the room. “I felt like a lecher every time I looked at you done out like a damned pilgrim, and all I wanted was to rip the rags from your back and toss you onto the desk.”

A gurgle of amusement escaped. “You’d have given Mr. Wells a fit.”

“Bugger Wells. With the slightest encouragement, I’d have jumped on you there and then.”

Against the unadorned linen, her skin was rich and creamy. Unable to resist tasting her, he nibbled a line down one shoulder. She tasted fresh and delicious. She smelled of warm woman and lemon soap. In his younger days, he’d pursued a courtesan or two. None of their jasmine or rose came near to stirring him the way Eleanor Trim’s clean scent did.

“You seemed so controlled.”

When he lifted his head, he met that level gaze that
always made his breath catch. “You don’t know how close you came to being ravished against the bookcases.”

He fumbled with her corset. His fervor made him all thumbs.

Another delightful gurgle. “I wish I’d known.”

“I thought you must have. Everything you did was so precisely calculated to send me into a frenzy.”

“Surely not,” she said, although he saw her satisfaction as she gradually accepted her power over him. “And you’ve known that I’m… I’m helpless against you since the night I came to your room.”

Leath gave up on the laces and ripped the corset in two. She gasped and raised her hands to her breasts, outlined against the chemise. Pink nipples pressed against the linen. The sight made him mad to see the rest of her. But her swift modesty reminded him what was at stake. He kissed her again, relishing her unfettered response. His hands tangled in her extravagant hair.

“Shall I help with your boots, my lord?” she whispered.

“Good God.” He sat back. He’d been so focused on arousing her that he’d forgotten that he’d come up here sweaty and tired from a day in the saddle. “You’ll think I’m a lout.”

“Hardly.” She smiled as she rose from the bed. In her shift and petticoat, she looked like a virgin sacrifice. His conscience pinched, but he gave it the cut direct.

“Are you wearing drawers?” he asked, astonished how raw he sounded.

He loved her blushes. “Yes.”

“Take them off.”

Leath expected protest. She’d been an unruly servant. He couldn’t imagine as a mistress she’d be much different.

That devilish alluring smile curved her ripe lips. Slowly and teasingly, she hitched up her petticoat, revealing pretty
ankles. With a few deft movements that put his efforts with her corset to shame, white cotton slipped to her feet.

As she kicked her drawers away, he gulped with admiration and growing arousal. He’d been right about the fire in her soul.

Still smiling like a siren, she kneeled before him. His heart gave another great thump. He couldn’t resist picturing what she might do from that position. On her knees with her hair in disarray, she was every man’s fantasy. Except that he didn’t deceive himself about her strength. If she bent to his will, it was because she wanted to.

He slid to the edge of the bed and extended one long leg. He relished the delicious jiggle of her breasts when she tugged at his muddy boot.

Once the boots were gone, he drew her up between his thighs to kiss her. He couldn’t get enough of that succulent plum of a mouth. Her taste would haunt him forever.

He untied her petticoat and tugged the frail shift over her head, tumbling her hair into wild ripples. Her hair was so thick that it concealed her from his starving gaze. The urge to see her body pounded like a huge hammer, but her eyes arrested his attention. She appeared uncertain and awkward, no longer the self-confident hussy who had kicked her drawers to perdition.

Gently, gently…

Carefully, he stood and drew her to her feet. “Let me look at you.”

Eleanor blushed a delightful pink and her gaze fluttered from his. She was an enchanting mixture of the brazen and the shy. Even as he hungered to take her, he savored this delicate surrender.

“I’ve never stood naked before a man,” she muttered.

He wanted to tell her that if he had his way, no other man
would enjoy the privilege. Until with stabbing regret, he recalled that he could have no permanent call on a mistress’s loyalties.

He beat back the thought before it contaminated his happiness. Because despite his qualms, he was happy. Happier than he could ever recall in his dutiful, busy, useful existence.

All because he wanted a beautiful girl who wanted him too.

Such a simple solution to life’s mysteries. Perhaps he should propose it at the next sitting of parliament as the answer to the nation’s woes. That would make the opposition sit up and pay attention, by God.