A Dangerous Game (4 page)

His blood warmed his veins, coursing through his body, surging toward his groin, causing a deep ache within his now throbbing cock. Her hand slipped down his arm, her fingers grazing his forearm, then she pressed her hand flat against his stomach. The breath lodged in his throat. She was not doing what he thought she was doing, was she?

Her hand slipped past the waistband of his pants.

He nearly choked on his intake of breath.

“Salvatore! Nicolette!”

Hearing their names bellowed from nearby, Salvatore abruptly put her at arm’s length. Nicolette stared up at him with mouth open, her lips swollen and red, and her eyes...were different. There was passion in those green depths that scared him even more than the erratic pounding of his heart. And even worse, her fingers were a fraction from his...

Dear God, what had he done?

“We will be right there,” he said, his voice coming out lower than usual. He cleared his throat and removed her roving hand from his pants. “I trust that was adequate?”

Nicolette’s lips curved the slightest bit and she nodded, looking pleased.

Taking her by the hand, he led her along the path at a brisk pace. It was a relief to see Mrs. Stromme, an outspoken American heiress in her late fifties, standing on the veranda, looking out over the gardens. She puffed on a cigar, her back toward the two of them. The fun-loving woman had told him last night that her husband forbade her to smoke. No wonder she looked ready to bolt.

Seeing a way out of the awkward tension, Salvatore put a finger to his lips, signaling silence. Nicolette nodded.

“Mrs. Stromme.”

The woman stifled a scream and dropped the cigar. “Salvatore! For the love of God, you nearly scared me out of my skin.” She put her hand to her heart while grinding the cigar under her heel. “Come, you’re late for dinner.” She looked from Salvatore to Nicolette. “Dear, are you all right? You look a bit flushed.”

Mrs. Stromme was right. Nicolette’s cheeks were a flattering shade of pink, her eyes bright.

Nicolette glanced at Salvatore for a second and smiled innocently. “I’m quite well, thank you.”

“When we heard your call, we practically ran the whole way,” Salvatore said, extending his free arm for Mrs. Stromme. “Shall we?”

When they entered the dining room, all guests were seated. Salvatore helped Mrs. Stromme to her chair, then ushered Nicolette into her seat before taking his place at the opposite end of the table.

“Sorry for the delay,” Salvatore said to the group who had gone silent at their entrance. “Nic and I are so accustomed to being seated last, that we often forget we hold up dinner in the process.”

Understanding what it was to be last on the peerage list, and therefore the last to be seated, Mr. and Mrs. Stromme laughed aloud, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Conversation resumed.

Salvatore glanced down the table from time to time to see how Nicolette fared. Sitting across from Darian, and beside a certain viscount who had finagled a place next to her, she held her own, smiling, laughing and charming all around her.

“Will you be playing tonight?” a woman asked, reminding Salvatore he had dinner companions to entertain; a newly married young lady, no older than Nicolette but far less attractive and Charlotte. Elizabeth sat directly across from him and she smiled innocently at him over her wineglass.

“Yes, I will, Lady Mariweather,” he replied.

Charlotte squeezed his thigh, and he nearly toppled the glass he had reached for. At any other time he might be tempted to flirt with the widow, but now was not the time. All his attention was focused on Nicolette and the kiss they had just shared. What had it meant...and why had he responded so passionately to her touch?

He looked down the table at Darian, who in turn watched Nicolette, much like a tiger ready to pounce. The man’s attraction to her was obvious to everyone at the table, including Elizabeth who began chewing on her bottom lip in a very unattractive way. Darian’s mother scowled at her son.

However, Darian seemed not to notice anyone except Nicolette.

Salvatore lifted the glass to his lips and swallowed the too-dry wine. He winced. The Kedgwick fortune
must
be in danger.

Nicolette laughed aloud, bringing Salvatore’s attention back to that end of the table. She appeared so happy, her cheeks still pink, her smile wide, dimples exposed, eyes bright and alive as she leaned toward the viscount and whispered something in his ear.

“You are ever watchful of your partner,” Charlotte said, one side of her mouth lifting in a coy smirk.

“I apologize. I do not mean to be inattentive to you beauties, but Nic was not feeling well earlier. That was one of the reasons we were late. I was considering bowing out for the night.”

Charlotte frowned. “But you are to play this evening.”

Salvatore nodded. “All women must think alike, for that is exactly what Nic said. She told me that we must earn our pay.”

“I can think of more enjoyable ways to earn your pay,” Lady Mariweather murmured close to his ear, her hot look telling him that he had not misread the invitation in her voice.

Sadly enough there had been a time in his life when he had been tempted to sell his body to the wealthy women of
the ton
. He had drawn the interest of women from all walks of life, those from the brothel he’d grown up in were no exception. He knew boys from the streets who made their living that way. But he always had Nicolette to consider, and she had never strayed from his side, making that lifestyle impossible.

Thank God.

Throughout the various courses he looked up to find Nicolette watching Darian, her gaze lingering before glancing at Salvatore. He smiled reassuringly, then pushed food around his plate, as he had no appetite, all the while keeping up on the lackluster conversation going on about him, and fending off the advances of the widow who grew more aggressive, her hand inching up his thigh with each course.

It was with vast relief the countess stood and announced the women would be adjourning to the drawing room to take tea, while the men had cigars and a glass of port.

Rather than having a drink with the men, Salvatore immediately sought out Nicolette, who was already seated at the piano. “Ready?”

“I thought dinner would never end,” she said, brushing a wayward curl from her face, only to have it bounce right back.

With a knowing smile, he smoothed the lock over her ear, trying without success to forget the kiss they had shared. How lovely she was. No wonder men flocked to her. “The wine was horrible, wasn’t it?”

He laughed under his breath, amazed how they thought so much alike.

Too soon the guests entered. Salvatore reached for his violin. He noticed Darian once again made his way to the very back of the room. Obviously he wanted to look his fill at Nicolette while mama and betrothed weren’t breathing down his neck.

Once everyone was seated, Salvatore nodded at Nic. She smiled and closed her eyes, her long lashes resting against high cheekbones. His stomach tightened, for she looked just as she had when he’d kissed her earlier in the garden.

Pulling his attention from her to the music, he tried to forget the feel of her lips on his, the sound of her sighs, the feel of her full breasts smashed against his chest...the brush of her fingers coming so close to his cock.

What in the hell was the matter with him?

Try as he might to forget the moment, the image haunted him. Though he played song after song without fault, he felt a pang of guilt. He had never been so distracted.

Forcing himself to concentrate on the audience, he noted the women watching him—while all the men, save for an effeminate footman, watched Nicolette.

A servant handed Darian a glass of Madeira and nodded toward Nicolette. Salvatore could read his lips, “From the lady at the piano.”

Salvatore glanced over at Nicolette to find her watching Darian. Darian lifted the glass in mock salute and Nic’s lips curved into a soft, promising smile.

His stomach churned.

She was fast learning the game of seduction.

Nic’s gaze caught Salvatore’s. She didn’t even blink as her fingers pounded on the keys, then softly gave way to a sweet melodious tune that had haunted him since the first time she had played it for him. Her song...and she was playing it for Darian. The knowledge cut to the quick and he looked away before she could read the disappointment in his eyes.

The score was filled with crescendos so intense that even the hair on Salvatore’s arms stood on end and his throat tightened. Focusing, he put everything he was into the thundering climax that came right before an abrupt stop. For a moment there was silence, then the crowd jumped to their feet. Even Darian set the now-empty glass down, and joined in the applause.

Salvatore released an unsteady breath. They had never played with such energy, and the crowd loved it. Putting bow and violin beneath one arm, and taking Nicolette’s hand with the other, he bowed and she curtsied.

“I am going to him,” she said, and before he could get a word in, she was off, heading toward the back of the room where Darian watched her approach with a devil-may-care smile.

If possible, at that moment Salvatore hated his brother even more.

*****

Nicolette’s heart hammered as she approached Darian. If Salvatore wanted her to seduce Darian, then seduce him she would.

No more nervousness, no more qualms.

If only she could stop thinking about the kiss with Salvatore in the garden. The way his lips had tasted, and how wonderful it had been in comparison to Darian’s kiss on the veranda.

She stopped before Darian, who reached out, grabbed her trembling hand and brought it to his lips. She forced a smile. “Did you enjoy the Madeira?”

“Indeed, I did.”

“I hope it will help you sleep this evening.”

A dark brow lifted. “I’m sure I will sleep fine. Thank you.”

The look in his eyes was predatory, and as his gaze slipped down her body, she shifted on her feet. She was in way over her head. “What did you think of the song?”

He leaned forward, his lips grazing her ear. “It was amazing, just as you are amazing.”

His breath against her neck was hot. His nearness almost suffocating. She resisted the urge to step back and instead replied, “I am glad you enjoyed it.”

“I want what you are offering, Nicolette.”

His bluntness took her unaware. She opened her mouth but could not form any words.

“Come to me tonight. My room is on the second floor, west wing, third door on your right, which you will find unlocked.” He nodded at a gentleman that passed by them before leaning closer. “I must ask for complete discretion.”

Her heart pounded loud in her ears. “Tonight? I am quite tired.”

He grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You can sleep tomorrow. My servants are discreet. I will see to it that you are undisturbed so that you can rest.”

The way he said it implied that he would keep her up all night. She abruptly shifted her gaze to his right and was relieved to find Elizabeth coming their way.

Nicolette smiled wide...and received a cool frown from the other woman, who had every right to be furious with her. Nicolette had felt more than a little guilty from the first time they’d met. After all, everyone in the room had to have seen the way Darian watched her throughout dinner, the way his eyes had slipped to her breasts, the heat there.

The countess had glared throughout dinner, reminding Nicolette about the horrid kiss she’d witnessed. Even the viscount had whispered under his breath that the earl was in rare form.

“Good evening, Lady Elizabeth,” Nicolette said with as much joviality as she could muster.

Thankfully Darian released Nicolette’s hand.

Darian smiled down at Elizabeth like the caring fiancé he should be, but was far from. Elizabeth in turn wrapped her hand in the crook of his arm, the gesture possessive. “Dearest, I was just telling Miss Rockwell how wonderfully she played.”

Elizabeth looked up at Darian and genuinely smiled, relief evident on her face at her fiancé’s warm welcome. “You both played amazing.”

“Well, thank you,” Salvatore said, stepping from behind Elizabeth to take Nicolette’s hand. He kissed it softly. “I apologize for my absence, my sweet. I promised Lord Dancher I would have a brandy with him, but apparently the brandy got to him before I could, for he has already retired.”

Nicolette’s heart skittered, from both relief and excitement. He had not abandoned her after all.

Elizabeth laughed, watching Salvatore intently. A slight blush tinged her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled. Salvatore had already cast his spell over Darian’s fiancée, it seemed. In fact, it appeared every woman present had been smitten by his charm.

“I am glad you enjoyed the performance,” Nicolette said, squeezing Salvatore’s hand. “I apologize for retiring so early, but it has been a long day and I fear I am in need of rest.”

“Indeed,” Salvatore interjected. “I wish to retire as well, so we will bid you goodnight.”

Even as she walked away, hand in hand with Salvatore, she could still feel Darian’s eyes on her. He had made it clear with not only his words, but his smoldering stare just now, that he wanted her tonight, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Chapter Four

Salvatore woke early from a near restless night of sleep. The sensual dreams of the night before left him agitated and confused.

Nicolette had come to him in his dreams, kissing him, laying beside him, touching him, as one would a lover. He had taken her beneath him, entered her sweet body and she had cried out his name, meeting him thrust for thrust. He had awoken in a sweat, his heart pounding, his cock throbbing.

He needed to find a cold lake to jump into.

Dressing, Salvatore walked across the hall to Nicolette’s room and knocked. When no answer came, he stepped in and found the room empty.

Last night he had been surprised by her desire to leave the party so early. Before Elizabeth had appeared at Darian’s side, Nicolette and the earl had been standing at the back of the room, talking intimately...like lovers awaiting a tryst.

Be careful what you wish for.
How many times had his mother warned him of that very thing? She’d been right, because now he wondered what in the world had possessed him to have Nicolette seduce a man that could easily break her heart.

Glancing at her empty bed, memories of the erotic dream came back to him, taunting him.

He forced himself to focus on where she might be, instead of the things they had done in his dream.

Nicolette was accustomed to late nights, so she rarely woke before ten o’clock. Unless... He shook his head. No, she would not have spent the night with Darian.

Or would she?

Her words came back to haunt him. There’s nothing I would not do for you. With a calm he didn’t feel, he left her bedchamber and went straight for the dining room, where a few guests were eating heartily from the food piled on sideboards that threatened collapse beneath the veritable feast.

Seeing that Nicolette was not amongst the diners, he walked back down the hall, out onto the veranda, thinking she might be taking a turn about the gardens. Having checked every drawing room and the library, he finally headed for Darian’s study.

The door was shut, and it was all he could do not to press his ear against it to hear. Thankfully he refrained from doing so, for the butler appeared out of nowhere. “May I help you, sir?”

“No, thank you.” Salvatore knocked on the study door.

“Enter.”

Salvatore rolled his eyes at the command, and entered the dark-paneled room to find Darian at his desk and his mother in a nearby chair. “Good morning, Lady Kedgwick. Lord Kedgwick, have you seen Nicolette this morning?”

Darian looked surprised by the question. “No... perhaps she is sleeping.”

“I have already been to her room,” Salvatore replied. “She is not there.”

“Perhaps she spent the night with someone,” the countess said, the words harsh and clipped.

Salvatore shook his head and forced civility. “Nicolette slept in her own room last night. I have been searching for over an hour. I thought perhaps you would know where she was.”

“Why would my son know of her whereabouts?” the countess asked, looking from Salvatore to Darian, who merely shrugged.

“Why indeed,” Salvatore said, before backing out of the room. “Sorry to have disturbed you.”

Concerned, Salvatore raced toward the stables. A young boy jumped at the sight of him. “Sir, may I be of assistance?”

“I am searching for a young lady. She stands about your height, with auburn hair and—”

“She left two hours ago.” The boy shifted on his feet. “I told her I thought she should not go out alone, especially when there’s a storm on the way.”

Relieved, yet furious Nic had been so reckless, Salvatore mounted the horse and rode like the devil was on his heels.

The cool air soon gave way to sprinkles before turning into pounding rain. With every mile, his concern grew to the point different scenarios raced through his mind. What if Nicolette had been thrown from the horse? Or worse? One horrifying image after another played itself over in his head.

A loud crack of thunder sounded just as he came upon an old cottage weathered by time. He heard the whinny of a horse, and seeing a gray mare, knew that he had found Nicolette.

Relaxing now that he’d found her, Salvatore dismounted and told himself to let go of his anger and just be thankful she was all right. She was not his daughter, nor his sibling. He must stop treating her as he would one under his care. She was a grown woman who could make her own decisions, and mistakes...or maybe this time it was his mistake.

Tethering his horse to a nearby tree, he made his way to the cottage, where old lace curtains, yellowed from time, hung askew on the windows. He knocked softly, and Nicolette immediately opened the door. She was soaked to the skin, her hair plastered to her head, emphasizing her delicate bone structure.