Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (65 page)

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Pickpocket Countess

She looked at Brandon, rumpled and ruined, lying next to her. 'You're a wreck. We've destroyed your clothing.' She gave a soft laugh, picking up the limp strip of linen that once represented his finely starched, impeccably tied cravat just minutes ago.

Brandon's blue eyes, still glowing like hot coals from the intensity of their coupling, simmered now with humour. 'It will put Harper's talents to good use, trying to redress me in record time.' He rose up, naked, and sorted through the pile of his discarded garments. 'I have something for you. Ah, here it is.' Brandon pulled a long, flat, blue velvet box from his jacket.

Nora pulled on her diaphanous dressing gown and sat down at the vanity. Her heart beat at the sight of the slender box. It was jewellery. She'd stolen enough of it to know the boxes it came in. She swallowed hard, nervous over the import of the gift.

'Go on, take it,' Brandon urged softly when she hesitated.

'What is it?' she asked gamely, smiling like a woman should when receiving gems. Every man was raised to believe women liked jewellery. She perpetuated the myth with a beatific smile. Brandon would expect it. None the less, she couldn't allow him to fritter away jewels for a lost cause. She would have to refuse them. But first she'd have a peep inside the box.

Nora stared in amazement, forgetting to breathe. A diamond necklace set with emeralds lay nestled among the folds of blue satin, flanked by a matching bracelet and

'They're

magnificent, Brandon.'

'They're the S tockport diamonds

It was even worse than she'd thought. He hadn't bought them. They were heirlooms. Nora snapped the lid shut at the import of the jewels. 'I can't possibly wear them,' she said firmly. She held the box out to him.

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Brandon took the box and set it on the vanity. He opened the lid and drew out the necklace. 'You can and you will. They are your betrothal gift,' he said with equal firmness, clasping the jewels about her neck.

'Our betrothal isn't real,' Nora reminded him sharply. She laughed suddenly, fingering the diamonds. 'I get it, these aren't real, either. They're paste. Quite good for paste. I haven't seen anything of this quality.'

Brandon looked affronted. 'I assure you, they are real.

They've been

by four generations of Stockport brides.'

'But not by me,' Nora rejoined softly. 'It wouldn't be right.'

Brandon ignored the quiet plea and fastened the earrings gently in her lobes, his hand

her bare shoulder where

the peignoir had fallen away. 'Everyone will expect to see you wear them tonight.'

Expectations again. His use of the word reminded her that the handsome, virile man in her boudoir had not forgotten this was indeed a ruse. He had not brought the gems to convince her of his affections. He'd merely brought them to keep up appearances and perhaps to remind her of all she was giving up if she refused his protection.

'Say you'll wear them, Nora,' Brandon cajoled. He pulled her hair to one side, letting the light catch the diamonds. 'They look stunning on you.'

He was still naked. Nora felt his manhood stir against her back.

She couldn't fight his lethal persuasion. If she didn't do something quickly, they would end up back on the floor and hours late for a function in their honour. 'Don't make it harder than it is already,' Nora protested.

Brandon reluctantly stepped back. 'I assume when you say harder you are not referring to me.'

Nora laughed and let her gaze drift lower to where the member in question lay in a state of partial arousal. 'If the ref-

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erence applies, my lord,' she teased, glad to have the argument behind them if not resolved.

Unabashed by his nakedness, Brandon strode to the wardrobe and sorted through the myriad gowns. 'What did you plan on wearing?'

'It hardly matters since you obviously have a gown in mind.

I don't want to end up arguing about it.'

'Afraid you'll lose?' Brandon countered, pulling out the gown he sought, deep green velvet trimmed lavishly with gold braid. The neckline was cut off the shoulders to showcase Nora's shapely collarbones and jewels. Elegant and sophisticated, it was the perfect betrothal gown for a woman past her years.

She gave a quirky grin. 'I never lose. I merely let you think you've

Brandon helped her into the various undergarments the gown required and fitted her into the dress with amazing dex-terity. 'Done this before?' Nora queried playfully.

'Give me some credit. Jack could tell you stories about our exploits. I used to be a man about town in my younger days.'

has it you still are,' she bantered. The teasing levity between them helped keep the serious issues at bay.

'If the reference applies.. . he tossed back easily, using her earlier words.

Tonight was possibly the last night between them. Ostensibly it would be up to her. His offer of marriage still held, but for the wrong reasons. Nora found she didn't want to think beyond the ball.

They dressed Brandon next in a second set of evening clothes, turning him out as pleasing to the eye as he had been before. Nora did a credible job of tying his cravat, even if the knot was simpler than the one formerly devised by Harper.

'How do I look?' Brandon asked, grabbing up his evening cape.

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'Hmm.. Nora pretended to study him, contemplating her answer. She tapped a finger against her chin. 'I think I liked you better undressed.'

Brandon flashed a wicked grin. 'Maybe we can accommodate you later this evening.'

'How much later?' Nora batted her eyelashes up at him in flirtatious parody.

'Tut, you're a naughty lassie, already thinking of ways to sneak off to dark corners at the Squire's.'

'Well, first we have to get there.' Nora glanced at the carved wood clock sitting on a side table. It was time to go. As they left the room, Nora felt as if the curtain was going up on the last act of their play, but she still wasn't sure how it ended. If only she could convince herself that Brandon's protection was a valid substitute for his

affections.

The ball was well attended. The squire filled his home with businessmen from Manchester, the investors and the appropriate people of his acquaintance from the village. For a country-man, he was extremely well connected and it showed in his guest list and in the extravagance on display.