Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman (7 page)

“You know about his need to have me prove myself worthy?”

“Of course. I’ve been friends with the man these many years,” he said with a pensive smile. George tore his gaze away from the couple and stared down at her. “I intend to be around to pick up the shattered pieces. You need someone to look after you. I won’t pressure you more. At least not now.”

Afterward the ball took on the realm of a dream, floating, enchanted and disconnected as she danced with one gentleman after another. She managed to push Adron to the back of her mind, but somehow she knew exactly where he was all the same.

The music ended with Adron standing next to her and for the first time that evening she was caught up in the dance by him. A hissing sound signaled Adron’s displeasure. “I don’t care to see you sitting in George’s pocket. And I shouldn’t take him too seriously if I were you. He’s a good chap but all too often he falls prey to his chivalrous instinct.”

“I’ve only danced with him one time.”

“I stand corrected. I can read the passion in your eyes and that belongs to me. I feel the tremble of excitement in your fingers and that too belongs to me.” His lips curled up in a devastating, knowing smile. “And I can actually see your pulse throb in your throat. A telltale sign your heart is racing—for me, my beauty. Remember, it’s my kisses you crave, not his.” Laughter threaded his voice.

A lump lodged in her throat before she drew in a deep breath. “Crave is perhaps too strong a word. You once reminded me, a widow is allowed a certain license to indulge in a little—flirting shall we say, without the censure of society.”

“Is that what you call it? Flirting?” He whispered a promise in her ear, “Later, my beauty.”

She gave an unsteady laugh. Would he take no for an answer this time and did she want him to accept her no as final?

Chapter 7

“Blast the wench,” Adron muttered to himself. He envisioned her standing before him with her lips parted, moist and sweet, making him daft. His plan to drive her away had reached out and coiled him in the clutches of this insane, wanting dilemma he seemed unable to escape.

Adron slipped into his library and poured brandy into a snifter, swallowing the burning liquid in one gulp. Tightening his lips, he determined his body would not rule him and sank into his chair when all he wanted to do was possess Laurel. He shuffled through his papers, penned instructions for Edmond and rose, fully intending to seek his bed.

Heading up the stairs, he somehow found himself outside her door instead of his own. He’d truly tried to keep away, but against his will he found himself drawn by her sensual allure.

Rapping softly, he pushed into her room only to find she wasn’t there. Before reason took over, he panicked. Adron knew she dared not take Jamie without his permission else she would pay a price for her folly. Moreover, she wouldn’t leave without her son. Nevertheless, he exhaled a deep breath when he recalled her unwavering duty to her charges. From the moment she’d entered his home, she’d always made certain all was well with the children before any other consideration.

Not wanting to recall that about her, he thrust the disturbing recollections from him. Adron wanted to think the worst of her, to believe she deserved no better after what she’d done to his cousin. Acknowledging he could be wrong would prove fatal to his plan so he pushed even that
aside. He simply wanted her. His body
was on
fire and fight as he would, he could no more avoid her than he could fly. He waited.

Upon entering her room, Laurel suppressed a scream as she spied a man standing beside her bed. “You frightened the life out of me. What are you doing in my chamber?”

“Waiting. As you well know, you’ve sat me on fire this night, deliberately. Every time I happened to glance around, your melting gaze managed to catch my eye. That is when you weren’t blinding my
friend
with your sorcery,” he muttered, his expression stiff and a trifle grim. “I don’t intend to let George Dunaway steal a march on me.”

She could only gape. Basking in the warmth of George’s regard had been a mistake and the term guilty as charged applied, although unwittingly. “I—I . . .”

“Exactly so,” he said, his smile laced with irony as he stepped closer. His gaze locked with hers, his intense with passion and she suspected hers mirrored the same.

His deep intake of breath signaled his intentions and before she realized he had moved, she was entwined in his embrace.

“Adron,” she whispered.

“Yes, Adron. It’s me, Adron and it’s me you want.”

Her own awareness was heightened to a level of intensity she hated. She was caught, dangerously drawn to him physically—only physically she assured herself. Laurel deliberately played with fire, deadly, all consuming, and she dreaded getting burned. Perhaps the experience would break the physical attraction that drew her to him.

The passion in Adron’s eyes made her heart lurch. For several days she’d longed to touch his skin, to feel the texture, to drown in the scent of him. Her fingers had tingled to stroke his skin and hair, all of him. Now that she was in his embrace she could feel the strength in his arms and his heart pounding against her breast. This was madness, but how could she continue to fight him and herself as well?

Adron slid his hand into her hair and kissed her. He whispered, “Laurel, you’re beautiful. So beautiful.”

With a strangled groan, he uttered, “Irresistible.”

His desire sparked hers and waves of longing washed over her. Adron wanted her and the sensation of having that effect on such a man added to her hunger. Her breath came in soft gasps as she stared up at him. Adron trailed kisses from her forehead to her ear and she moaned as he caught the lobe between his teeth.

“You’re delicious. Every inch of you.”

He caressed the pulse in her throat with the tip of his tongue sending quakes of pleasure to the sensitive area between her legs. She gasped. Her breast grew heavy, the nipples distended and almost painful with desire.

His mouth closed over her lips with a force that left her drowning in sensations as she joined him in the kiss. Laurel couldn’t resist the urge to trace those steel muscles up his arms and across his broad shoulders. Her fingers tangled in his hair. Somehow the buttons of his fine lawn shirt came undone baring his chest and his snowy cravat had long since disappeared. She could tell there would be no reprieve, but she wanted none. Laurel longed to be held, to be taken and filled with his passion. Laurel wanted to surrender to his strength and her need.

Her clothes miraculously disappeared as well. She could feel his body, rigid with need, his flesh melting hot pressed against hers. He lifted her in his arms. Yes, this is what she longed for and she pushed all thoughts away. Laurel would deal with the consequences in the morning. Now she wanted to feel passion rising and ripping her apart with pleasure. She needed to surrender, to be consumed by him, as she wanted to consume him.

His raging pulse matched hers. He rained soft kisses over her eyelids, down her cheek and her throat to her breast.
He suckled one and then the other. The sensation shattered her with pleasure and she writhed beneath him.

The kisses traced down her body to her navel and delved inside sending her into a violent arch of need. Her body in flames, she pulled at his shoulders, inviting, urging him on. “Adron, please.”

“Open for me,” he coaxed in a whisper.

Her thighs parted and his fingers touched her flesh, stroking, building pleasure and finally slipping inside. When she could stand no more, he entered her and his heat nearly welded his flesh to hers. With every thrust the tension grew until she thought she must die from the building pressure. Her ragged breaths came faster and faster while moans of ecstasy stuck in her throat with a sobbing sound. With every urgent thrust of his body, his labored breathing matched hers finally flinging both lovers over the cliff of ecstasy.

As his breathing slowed, he rolled to the side and sat up on the edge of the bed. He lowered his head and placed his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “This won’t be the last time you know,” he said in a ragged voice, turning his head to pin her with eyes that still smoldered with desire. “Not as long as you are under my roof.”

No tender words of caring or promises of more than passion passed his lips.
What had she expected after a single time of surrender?
She gathered the blanket over her in the silence that followed and stared up at him. He donned his clothes as she watched. A moment of sheer madness on her part had led to this unforgettable moment, but there the affair must end while it was only a physical attraction. She’d made a colossal mistake and she realized this inconvenient longing would lead to disaster for her if she continued.

“This must be the only time,” she asserted slightly above a whisper.

“I can promise you it won’t be. The temptation is too great—for both of us.”

“No,” she denied, her soft lips tightening in a straight line.

Adron leaned down and kissed her, not forcing or holding her in any way. Laurel melted against him, drinking in the taste of him, the strength and absorbing the pleasure that he represented.

He raised one brow, waiting for an argument of any kind. With no denial forthcoming, he smiled and feathered the back of his hand along her cheek, then stood and left, softly shutting the door behind him.

Laurel stared at the door. She shouldn’t still want him, but she did. When next he approached her, she should tell him no, but she wouldn’t. Waiting until he kept his promise again would seem forever.

Chapter 8

Adron reined Jupiter, into the stable block and dismounted as the head groom rushed forward to grasp the bridle.

The stable-master bobbed his head. “Welcome home, Milord.”

“Thank you. It’s great to be home again.”

Adron strode toward the house cursing his wretched mishandling of the situation at Landings. Three tedious weeks delving into the affairs of Robert’s estate had stretched his temper to breaking point. He tightened his lips. Loath to distress Rhonda, he’d practiced a hands off approach in wrenching the management of the estate from her hands until recently. Robert had foolishly placed too much power in his sister’s hands, power that should rightly belong to Laurel. Now the problem was his to deal with, Rhonda sensibilities and all, a wearing process indeed. With his jaw clamped tight, fully in control of the property, he left her in a fit of the sulks. She had been screaming for her companion, Miss Essie, pour soul, but Robert’s son and his inheritance must be protected.

He exhaled a deep breath. Rhonda was the least of his worries. His longing for Laurel had not dissipated as he’d hoped. The single encounter was not enough, perhaps would never be enough and he ached for more. His desire for her was fierce and he couldn’t wait to have her again. Even after all his efforts to suppress his memories of her, she lingered in his mind, vivid, beautiful, and alluring.

The satin feel of Laurel’s skin, the silky texture of her hair, even her intelligence and above all her passionate nature called to him. He wanted—no he needed to capture the illusion that was Laurel.

In his experience, beautiful women simply did not behave as she did. Surely one day she would throw up her hands and walk away, proving his opinion of lovely women had merit. He assured himself he was testing her for Jamie’s sake, but his lip curled up at his self-deception.

Although his intentions labeled him a scoundrel in his own eyes, he would have her again regardless of the cost. He couldn’t resist. No gentleman would carry on an illicit affair under the same roof with his family in residence and he was a gentleman, even though his conduct was unbecoming. Adron eased his conscious with a promise to end the illicit relationship with her after one last interlude. Tonight he intended to travel the treacherous path stretched before him and could barely wait until nightfall.

Heloise greeted him as he entered the house. “Adron, I’m delighted you’re back. We all missed you.” She reached up and patted his cheek. “It gave me a fit of the dismals to watch Melissa mope, waiting for your return.”

He kissed her on the brow. “I’m happy to be home again too.” Stepping back, he glanced around expectantly. “Where are the children?”

“They’re about, but Melissa will be delighted to receive you immediately. She is in the parlor I believe.” Heloise gazed at him with a tight smile on her lips.

“I will see to my ward and the children first,” he replied with a decided challenge in his voice.

Heloise sighed and her tone was heavy with disapproval. “I expect Laurel has taken her charges out by the lake. Her usual practice at this time of day if the weather is fine.”

He grinned. “You’re an angel, Gran.”

A loud harrumph sped him on his way as he hurried out the door, justified with his excuse for visiting the children and Jamie as was proper in a guardian. In his rush to arrive at her side, he almost broke into a trot, but as he drew closer and spied Laurel, his steps faltered. Warm color flushed her features and she appeared all together perfect in this setting.

Laurel sat under the spreading branches of the oak tree on the back lawn, his ward in her lap. The other three youngsters were on the grass in front of her. Surrounded by the children, she presented a totally pleasing picture of quiet contentment, especially to one of his stern nature. All the little ones as well as Laurel peered at something on the ground. So intent on perusing whatever was happening before them, none glanced up as he approached.

Although he didn’t trust her motives or her actions, he wanted her and she had certainly earned his reluctant admiration with her management of the children. The rustle of grass must have alerted her to his presence because she glanced in his direction. His oldest niece, Laine jumped up and bounded toward him.

“Uncle Adron, did you know that the sky is way up there, miles and miles? And did you know that we can see far away—even with our little eyes?”

“Certainly,” he replied, strolling along to accommodate her shorter legs.

She reached for his hand and curled her fingers around one of his. “There are millions and millions of bugs that live in the grass too.”

“Exactly so.”

Uncle and niece reached the tree where the children were gathered around Laurel. His gaze rested on her for a long moment. “How very learned. I suppose we have you to thank for all of this newfound knowledge.”

Her mouth was set in prim lines, but her eyes held a decided twinkle. “A regular bluestocking, Milord.”

He bit down on a grin. “A very good thing surely when one is a nanny.”

Up close she appeared a little peaked and her features were drawn. He crouched beside her. Had he indeed placed too heavy a burden on her shoulders? For a second, the need to protect her hit him followed by the urge to share her passion. Finding it difficult to speak, he needed a moment to recover.

“The ants are carrying off a grasshopper,” Paige pointed out.

“See, Uncle Adron. It takes lots of ants to carry the big bug,” Nicole, his four year old niece chimed in, looking sideways at him. “Nanny says its co—coop . . . ration.”

“Cooperation,” Laurel corrected and smiled at the children.

“You children must only address her as Milady.” He glanced at each child. “Do you understand?”

A solemn nod from the youngsters and eyes rounded in question was his only answer. Clearing his throat, he decided not to pursue the issue. Instead, he continued to study Laurel. The role she assumed while guarding the children, always watchful, careful, and protective suited his sense of what was proper. Suddenly he didn’t want her to fail. He wanted to believe in her and the promise she represented but he desired her even more.

“I’ll be waiting impatiently for the night to come and for your totally delicious body,” he whispered leaning forward.

Fire lit her eyes. “You’ll wait until Hell freezes over,” she snapped in an undertone. “I told you no more.” She quickly rose to her feet. “Children, come. It’s time to go inside.”

Gathering her brood, she brushed her skirts and herded her charges down the path to the house. Taken aback, Adron sat on his haunches watching the sway of her hips until Laurel disappeared from his sight. For the first time, he admitted that after he had taken her to bed, he had changed in some indiscernible way toward her. Now she appeared to have changed too, changed her mind about the relationship. Well he would see about that. He would change her opinion back again.

Never had she been so frightened. During his absence, she determined to end the relationship before her affections became too deeply engaged. She was staggered by the intensity of her reaction to his nearness, close enough to touch, to take in his scent, to desire. It seemed years since he held her and regardless of her resolve, she longed to be in his arms again, but that way led to destruction. How could she stay with her son if she fell, really fell, for his practiced charm?

He was destined to marry Melissa or so she had been warned. She’d forgotten that bit of information until recently when his grandmother forcibly reminded her of her position. Now she was determined to avoid the pit with everything within her.

Later that night silence had long since descended on the house except for the occasional lash of rain against the windows. Listening to the soft splatter of rainfall drum against the roof, she lay with her eyes open. The sound of rain usually lulled her to sleep but she couldn’t settle. Her thoughts were full of Adron, the big oaf.

Laurel
had
told Adron
no
but she longed to be in his arms once more. She longed for his touch, for his warmth and for the strength of his body as he thrust into hers. Sighing she rolled over.
Did he need take her at her word? The bounder could have objected or at least tried to change her mind.
Burying her head under the pillow to escape the worry of what the new day would bring, she desperately wooed sleep.

A soft tread halted outside her chamber and a light scratching sounded before the door moved inward. She gasped. Her heart raced as Adron appeared with a single candle in hand.

“What are you doing here?”

Sitting the candle on top of the dresser, he studied her in the flickering light. “I couldn’t stay away.” He grinned. “Truth be told, you didn’t want me to stay away either.”

Laurel only hesitated for a moment before flinging the covers back and flying into his arms. “Oh, Adron.”

She gazed up at his lazy smile, his eyes filled with passion. How could she refuse him and his devastating invitation?

His kiss exploded sensations all through her and a fluttering sensation settled in her stomach. She was helpless to resist as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. Her surrender and his rapid, hungry possession was all she could have wished for. His heavy breathing mingled with hers and each thrust of his body drove her higher, longing for release but not wanting the magic to end so soon. His mastery of her body was fierce and totally satisfying. Having been denied for so long brought a tumultuous release and her body shuddered against his in a final explosion. He pulled away and surprised her by rolling onto his back with his hands behind his head.

“I’ve been thinking. You’ve done a splendid job with the children. I admire your tenacity and devotion very much.”

“You are Adron are you not? A changeling hasn’t crept into my bed by mistake?”

He laughed. “You might suppose so. I won’t apologize so don’t expect it. But perhaps we can deal a sight better together in the future.”

Flabbergasted she could hardly take in what he was saying. When his meaning finally sank in, she sat up and leaned over to kiss his mouth, nudging his lips open with her tongue. He rolled her onto her back with his leg over hers and deepened the kiss. She reveled in his nearness, the strength of his embrace and the feel of him. He lifted his head and grinned.

“Little wanton. All too easily, I could lose myself in your lovely body again, but you need your rest. Besides which I want to see your eyes sparkling, not dazed with passion, when I offer you a reward.”

Excitement held her almost breathless with anticipation. Would he make a commitment to her even against Melissa’s expectations? “What sort of reward?”

“I thought you might enjoy a trip to visit your aunt. After all, you were on your way there when I interrupted your journey.”

Disappointment choked her and her spirits sank. This must be a new way to remove her from the scene as he had always intended to do. “No thank you. I can’t leave Jamie for that long or the other children.”

“I’ll allow you to take Jamie with you.”

“What did you say?” she gasped, her hand at her throat.

“You deserve a respite from the entire brood but your aunt should have the privilege of visiting with her great-nephew as well.”

“What about the other children?”

“The other children need not concern you. Ingrid’s nanny has recovered and will be along any day now.”

Moisture gathered in her eyes and her throat stung with tears. “I don’t know what to say except yes, I’d love to see Aunt Betsy.”

She smothered him in kisses, on his forehead, his cheeks and his lips. Between kisses, he managed to say, “The devil with this. Sleep late in the morning. Becky can mind the children.” He began a slow assault on every sensual nerve in her body.

Adron crept from the room satisfied, completely relaxed and pleased with himself for offering her the trip to her aunt’s. The new understanding between Laurel and himself was a bonus as well. Of course he couldn’t continue in his present mode. She was a lady after all and an illicit affair shouldn’t be her fate. Still he couldn’t think of ending the relationship just yet—perhaps never. The perhaps never part had him in a quandary. Adron needed to ponder the rightness of any future decision he might make and not let her nearness influence him. His dealings with the chaos at Landings had left him no time to think of his relationship with Laurel—except to miss her.

Now he was concerned for her well-being and she deserved a treat. This small break would do her good, add a little color to her cheeks, bring the bloom of health to her features and add a feeling of ease back into her life. He smiled to himself as he entered his bedchamber and slept uninterrupted until his valet parted the hangings the next morning.

Adron was on his third attempt to tie his cravat when a sudden pounding on the door interrupted his ablutions. His valet, a thin dignified gentlemen’s gentleman of an indiscriminate age, placed several perfectly ironed neck cloths across the back of a chair before he strolled to the door, his tread slow and stately.

The flustered housekeeper entered, her rounded features clouded with concern. She bobbed a brief curtsy before brushing a stray lock of graying hair off her brow and clasped her hands in front of her apron. “Milord, it’s your grandmother.”

Alarm caught at his breath. “Is something wrong?”

“She’s had a spell first thing this morning. The doctor’s been. Now she insisted we call you.”

“I should have been notified immediately,” he snapped and bolted out of his seat, practically running down the steps. He entered his grandmother’s room with barely a knock on the door.