Heartless (11 page)

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Checking the figures. Making projections based on the changes I'm planning, that sort of thing.”

Ariel brightened. “If that is the case, why don't you let me help you?”

He shook his head. “I hardly think—”

“Why not? You know how good I am with numbers. I could save you immeasurable time.”

He studied her so thoroughly she fought not to squirm on the seat. Perhaps she shouldn't have offered. She would wind up working late with him, just the two of them, alone in his room. Considering what the earl had in mind for her, it was a dangerous situation.

“You said you could do rapid multiplication and division,” he said, leaving her question unanswered. “How do you do it?”

Ariel smiled. “There isn't any single formula. It's a combination of different tricks. Each one depends on the number. To multiply by twenty-five, for example, you divide whatever number you want by four, then add the proper amount of zeros.”

“For example?”

“Take twenty-eight times twenty-five. You would simply divide the number twenty-eight by four—that's seven—then add enough zeros. Seventy is obviously not enough. The answer is seven hundred.”

He made a similar mental calculation himself, and his mouth curved up. “That's quite a trick.”

“Do you know the quickest way to multiply any two-digit number by eleven?”

“No, but I imagine you're going to tell me.”

“If we were to take twenty-four times eleven, we would make a hole between the two and the four, add the two numbers together—that's six—then stick that number in the middle. The answer is two sixty-four. Of course if the number in the middle adds up to more than one digit you have to carry. Thirty-eight times eleven, for example, would become four eighteen.”

The earl sat forward in his seat. “Good God—you'd be a terror at cards.”

She gave him a wicked grin. “Perhaps we could play sometime.”

“Surely they didn't teach to you to play cards in school?”

“My best friend, Kassandra Wentworth, taught me. I favor loo, but I also play whist, rouge et noir, and Macao. If we played a bit, it would certainly make the trip go faster.”

He chuckled softly. “Did your friend Kassandra also teach you to gamble?”

“Of course. Kitt loves gaming. It's something her stepmother abhors, which means Kitt does it every chance she gets.”

“According to your letters, you didn't like her much at first.”

Ariel smiled. “Not in the beginning. But Kitt is nothing at all as she first appears. Her parents ignore her. She behaves badly simply to gain their attention.” She glanced out at the passing landscape, not really seeing it. “She is my only real friend and I miss her dearly.”

The earl made no reply, but his look turned slightly brooding. Perhaps it was the fact that Kassandra Wentworth was a well-bred lady. As such, she and Ariel could no longer remain companions once Ariel became his mistress.

Ariel lapsed into silence, her bright mood suddenly gone. She had offered to help him tonight, and though he hadn't yet accepted, there was every chance he would.

What would Phillip say if he knew she would be alone with the earl in his bedchamber? So far Phillip had overlooked the fact that she was staying in Lord Greville's house without a chaperone. What if he somehow discovered she had traveled to Cadamon with him?

It was hardly her idea, Ariel consoled herself. As long as she remained in his debt, she was his to command. Besides, she had no family, no money, and nowhere else to go.

Oh, Phillip, what should I do?

But no answer came and Phillip's handsome blond image slowly faded. Instead her thoughts returned to the tall, forbidding man seated across from her. She remembered the soft way he had kissed her at the door to her room, and an odd little flutter began in her stomach. If they were alone together, what would he do?

She glanced at his hard, chiseled profile, and her stomach fluttered again. She wasn't sure if it was fear or if it was anticipation.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

The afternoon lengthened. They played gin rummy, and though the earl wasn't easy to beat, Ariel accounted herself well and Greville seemed to actually enjoy himself. Ariel studied his face and thought again, in a far different way from Phillip, how very handsome he was.

“When we get back, would you mind if I did a profile miniature of you, my lord?”

He cocked a brow. “A silhouette?”

“I learned to do them in school. I've become quite good at them.”

His mouth edged up at the corner. He was so tall that every time he straightened, his head nearly brushed the roof of the carriage. “I begin to believe you are good at any number of things, Miss Summers.”

“Then you'll let me do it?”

“I must say it's an odd request. I can't remember anyone ever asking for my likeness before.”

“No? But surely there is someone who would cherish such a picture.”

His gaze sliced toward the window, and it bothered her to notice how desolate he suddenly appeared. “I'm afraid not.”

“You lived with your grandmother for a time. Is she not still living?”

His features slightly softened. “Yes, she is alive, though I haven't seen her in years. I take care of her financial needs, of course, and we correspond on occasion.”

“Then when it is finished, we will send it to her.”

He studied her in that intense way that seemed a habit of his. “If that is your wish.”

Ariel smiled. “As soon as we get back, then. In the light of the fire, perhaps.”

Something moved in those fierce gray eyes. They slid down the column of her throat and across her shoulders, lingered for a moment on her breasts. Her nipples grew tight and hard, rasping in an odd, tingling manner against the fabric of her dress.

Ariel thought of her offer to help him, imagined being alone with him, imagined those piercing gray eyes moving over her body as they did now, and knew with a bone-deep certainty she had made a very grave mistake.

*   *   *

Justin held the door, waiting as Ariel brushed past him, entering the room he had taken at the King's Way Inn, where they had stayed before, the halfway point on their return trip to London. Deciding to accept her offer of assistance with the ledgers, he had ordered a second table set up in the room. One of the mill ledgers sat open on the top, next to pen and ink, lit by a glowing whale oil lamp.

“I appreciate your assistance,” he said. “With both of us working and any luck at all, we'll be done in just a few hours.”

“I'm happy to help, my lord.” He watched her cross the room to the table, careful not to look at him, trying valiantly to hide her nervousness. Her efforts didn't fool him. The moment she had stepped into the room, her glance had strayed toward the bed and worry had risen in her features.

Justin's gaze drifted in that direction, to the clean sheets and soft feather mattress, and his body tightened with need. In the days since they had journeyed from London, his desire for Ariel had mushroomed tenfold. Every simple glance, every accidental touch, inflamed his blood. His want of her bordered on obsession.

And yet he was no closer to achieving his goal than he had been before.

Standing at the table a few feet away, Justin sighed as he stared down at the column of numbers on the page. Forcing her into his bed was out of the question. He wouldn't do that to any woman and especially not to this one. His respect for her had returned in the days that they had spent together. She was sweet and caring, intelligent and forthright—qualities he had sensed when he had read her letters.

Qualities he had rarely known in a woman.

She was also wary and distant, determined to remain at arm's length.

And yet, she couldn't completely ignore him. As his friend Clayton Harcourt had said, there was something about him women seemed to find attractive. Perhaps it was the darkness inside him or his hard, predatory nature.

And there was the bargain Ariel had made. He had noticed a deep sense of honor where she was concerned. She would stand by her promise, he believed, and though he preferred she come to him out of feelings of desire, he wasn't above holding her to her word.

Quietly he moved up behind where she worked, her fair head bent over the open ledger, her slim fingers sliding across the rows of blue-inked numbers, lips moving as she added, multiplied, and subtracted with such amazing skill. Her hair was as pale as the flax they wove into the wool at the mill, the skin at the nape of her neck as smooth as the petals of a rose. He knew a desperate urge to press his lips against the spot, to slide his fingers into her shiny silver-gold curls and scatter the pins that held them in place.

It was foolish, ridiculous, to be moved in such a way, yet he couldn't deny the feeling. He could smell her soft perfume, almost taste the silkiness of her skin. The image sent a jolt of heat spearing through him, so fierce he went instantly hard. Cursing himself, grateful for the coat that hid the uncomfortable ridge in his breeches, he took a step away.

He cleared his throat and she jumped at the unexpected sound of his voice: “I've written down changes I wish to make.” Her eyes struggled upward. For a moment she looked off balance, so deeply was she immersed in her work. He handed her the paper he had written the numbers on, and she set it in front of her on the desk. “Do you know how to calculate the projections?”

“I believe so. I multiply the existing numbers by the new numbers in the column on the left. It shouldn't take all that long.”

She returned to her work and he returned to his. Unfortunately, with Ariel in the room, he found it difficult to concentrate. A task that should have taken minutes took nearly half an hour. Ariel finished more quickly, and he handed her another batch of numbers.

They finished their tasks at about the same time, Justin setting his quill pen aside and rubbing the back of his neck.

Ariel looked over at him and smiled. “That wasn't so bad. In fact, I rather enjoyed it.”

His mouth curved faintly. “Did you? I find the task loathsome, myself, but once it's finished, it gives me the information I need to go forward. My joy comes in watching a project like this one progress. That's what makes business so interesting.” Rising from the chair, he made his way toward Ariel, who stood at his approach.

“Thank you for helping me.” He tried not to notice the way the lamplight shadowed her delicate features, the cleft in her chin, the curve of her cheek.

“As I said, I enjoyed it.”

He was standing closer than he intended. His hand came up of its own accord. He traced a finger along her jaw. “Perhaps I should put you on a permanent retainer,” he said.

Ariel looked at him and nervously moistened her lips. “Yes…” she said, a slight catch in her voice. “Perhaps you should.” She was taller than most of the women he knew. He liked that about her, that they fit so well together, liked the slenderness of her build. Without thinking, he caught a loose strand of hair and smoothed it back from her temple. “On second thought, there are other, more interesting things I should like for you to do. Far more pleasurable things than work.”

She blinked but made no move to escape. Justin thought he had never seen eyes so blue or lips such a lovely shade of pink. He had to kiss her. He couldn't have stopped himself if he had wanted to. Gently he tilted her chin and, with exquisite care, settled his mouth over hers. Ariel stiffened, but only for an instant; then her eyelids fluttered closed and her lips turned pliant under his.

He groaned as he deepened the kiss, tracing her lips with his tongue, tasting the corners, coaxing her to open for him. Her fingers curled into the lapels of his coat, and he felt her tremble. Her lips molded perfectly to his, and Justin fought an urge to crush her against him. Instead, he eased her into his arms and tasted her more fully, coaxing her to surrender.

She did so slowly, reluctantly, allowing his tongue to slide in, making a soft little whimpering sound in her throat. Inside his breeches, he was hard and aching for her, wanting her more than he could have imagined. His hand found her breast and he cupped it, teased the nipple with his thumb, felt it tighten. He plucked at it gently, and a shudder rippled through her. He turned his attention to the other breast, stroking it lightly, determinedly. Ariel stiffened for a moment and started to move away.

“Easy, love.” Justin kissed her again, gentling her, urging her to trust him. He massaged the fullness beneath his fingers, tested the weight, admired the apple-round shape, wished the gown was gone and he was caressing her firm, warm skin.

She trembled as he cupped her bottom and pulled her more snugly against him, her soft heat pressing into the hardness of his sex. Ariel must have felt it, must have realized where all of this was leading, for her whole body went rigid.

“It's all right, love,” he said softly, gently. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

But her tension didn't lessen and her hands flattened against his chest, shoving him away, determined to break free. Slowly, regretfully, he let her go.

Ariel backed away like a frightened deer.

“There is nothing to be afraid of,” he said calmly, though that wasn't the least how he was feeling. “What happened between us is the natural course of events between a man and woman. In time you'll learn to enjoy the pleasure we can share.”

She made a little sound of denial. “I won't do it,” she whispered, firmly shaking her head. “I'll find another way to repay you.”

“It's you I want, Ariel. You may not be ready to accept it, but I think you want me, too.”

“No! I don't—” She moistened her lips. “I don't want you. I won't be your mistress. I … I'll go to Phillip, tell him the truth. Phillip will help me—I know he will.”