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Authors: Lily Dalton

BOOK: Never Entice an Earl
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“Cormack,” she whispered.

He kissed her suddenly, catching her mouth slightly open. Before she realized, she’d
leaned into him, kissing him back with fervent eagerness. His tongue slipped inside
her mouth, something that ought to have shocked her but instead felt completely natural.
She sighed, and touched her tongue to his, too. Oh, how sweet and warm he was, inside
and out. Who needed dry clothes and a fire, when there was kissing?

He chuckled low in his throat.

She froze. Why did he laugh? Had she done something wrong?

She very well might have, because she’d never kissed a man, unless one counted young
David Waddington from the neighboring estate, when they’d both been just twelve. It
had been a hurried, sloppy affair with neither of them knowing what they were doing.
Her brother, Vinson, had caught them behind the hedge and given David a fat nose,
but refused even under intense interrogation to tell their father, the viscount, why.

On the contrary, Cormack clearly knew his way around a kiss. With a slant of his head,
he kissed her more deeply, easing her backward into the cushions and thrilling her
with the confident glide of his tongue over her upper teeth. With each brush of his
lips, each warm breath into her mouth, the invisible velvet cord that ran along the
center of her body tightened and quivered. Her toes curled into the cushion.

He exhaled and murmured near her ear, “Sorry—I couldn’t help myself.”

And apparently she couldn’t, either, but something told her to keep that to herself.
The same something held her silent, preventing her from begging for more. Her upraising,
she knew, and the expectation of her family and society that she would always behave
as a lady.

His face hovered near her cheek, but he did not kiss her. He gave her an opportunity,
she realized, to reject him, to protest. The moment lasted only that long—a moment—before
he bent a few inches more and nuzzled the side of her neck, just below her ear—

“All right, then. You haven’t screamed…or poked out my eyes.”

He pressed his lips to the sensitive skin there. Her fingers curled in his shirt.

“Tell me if you’re opposed,” he murmured against her skin. “Tell me if I should stop.”

She couldn’t say
anything
. He couldn’t possibly understand why, and she wasn’t about to tell him. But his breath
tantalized and tickled. With a sigh, she clasped his head there, and he found her
earlobe. They sank into the corner, the shadow of his body closing over hers, a delicious
blanket of heat and weight, his mouth again claiming her lips.

“Cormack—” she whispered against him, inhaling his breath. Kissing him back. “Yes.”

Beneath the coat, his hand found her bare skin, and smoothed up her thigh.

The carriage jerked to a stop.

He groaned, kissing her hard, and breaking away to stare at her through glazed eyes.

“Fortuitous timing.” He dragged a thumb across her toes and smiled. “I shall leave
you to change into your new old clothes.”

He exited the carriage, leaving her to darkness and silence and the overwhelming realization
she’d likely just had the most thrilling moment of her life. She’d been rescued and
kissed senseless by a handsome stranger.

Now the moment was almost over. Why did she feel so dissatisfied, when she ought to
feel relieved? Male voices sounded above her. The carriage started, nearly jolting
her from her seat. In reality, they could be abducting her away to the country or
taking her to the wharves to sell her off to a harem. She and her sisters read such
sordid stories in the papers all the time, and thanked God for their protected lives.
Yet her heart couldn’t summon the slightest impulse of alarm. She only felt exceedingly
morose that in mere moments she would have to say good-bye to Cormack and his delightful
kisses.

After dressing, in garments that fit her surprisingly well, she folded Cormack’s coat
on the opposite end of the bench. A glimmer caught her eye, followed by a dull
thunk
, something fallen from its pocket. Bending, she retrieved the object, a medallion
covered with the raised image of Medusa. Tilting its face toward the window, she made
out the word embossed along the bottom:
Invisibilis
.

A memory danced along the back of her mind, teasing and elusive. She had seen the
image somewhere, with the Latin word for “invisible.” But where? She returned the
object to his pocket, and settled to wait.

Some time later, after countless turns, the conveyance rolled to stop. Outside, the
strike of boots sounded against the pavement. Cormack himself opened the door, his
face hidden by shadows, and extended his hand to assist her down. Just seeing him
again made everything inside her feel light and excited. Behind him stood the familiar
stone walls of the earl’s mews.

She’d been right to trust him. She was just steps away from being returned to her
real life.

“Nice dress.” His gaze moved over her hotly, and he bit his lower lip in appreciation.
“I’ll walk you to the door.”

“To the door?” she blurted, horrified. “Oh, no. It’s far too late for that.”

Though the lane was deserted, the sounds of music and voices traveled over the walls.
Though nearly three o’clock, many balls were still underway. They proceeded toward
the house. Thankfully, it was very dark.

“Even for the servants?”

“I’m a lady’s maid,” she explained. “Not a scullery maid, and there are certain expectations
with regard to my behavior. There would be questions, and my mistress would most certainly
dismiss me. I cannot simply come and go, and keep company with strange men.”

He paused at the center of the lane, catching her arm, and then—her hand. “And yet,
this strange man wishes to see you again.” She stared down, knowing she ought to break
his touch. “Somewhere pleasant, apart from the madness of this night.”

His words were like magic to her ears. If only she could see him again. But that was
what made this moment so excruciatingly painful. So beautiful. Once she crossed the
threshold of her grandfather’s house, she wouldn’t be “Kate” anymore. She was the
granddaughter of one of England’s most influential earls. She simply couldn’t, under
any circumstances, consort with men off the street. Commoners, or merchants. But she
couldn’t tell him the truth, even if she wished it. To do so would be to place her
family’s reputation in terrible peril.

She removed her hand from his. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

His nostrils flared in a sudden display of displeasure. “Because you don’t like me
or because—no, wait.” He breathed though his nose. Then, with a tilt of his head and
a smile, he winked at her. “I know you like me. The way you kissed me back in the
carriage quite gives you away.”

Her cheeks warmed, because he was right. “You are a conceited fellow, aren’t you?”

“Not at all. A man can tell.” He threw her a devilish look. “In fact, you want me
to kiss you again.”

“That’s not true!” she exclaimed in mortification, though she could not help but laugh
because he looked so mischievous saying it. “Even if it were—”

But it was.
She wanted to kiss him, with a desperation that astounded her. But that would be
sending the wrong message, which wasn’t fair to him, not when she liked him so much.

“It’s just that I can’t see you again,” she said, with a firm shake of her head.

“There is someone else, then.”

Someone else. Oh, yes. A whole gaggle of them. Her mother, her grandfather, her sisters,
not to mention all of London society. All with expectations of her, very high ones.

“Yes,” she answered simply.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Very well. That is that, I suppose. I shouldn’t
have taken the liberty of kissing you without all the necessary vetting and permissions
and I should apologize, both to you and to
whoever he is
.” The last three words dripped with disdain and derision. “But forgive me if I don’t,
not to him. Because he’s a bastard and he doesn’t deserve you. If he did you wouldn’t
have been at the Blue Swan tonight. He would have died before allowing you to go.”

His sudden ferocity stunned her, and she could do nothing but stare at him in silence,
her thoughts in disarray.

Part of her unwisely and against all good sense wanted to take it back, to assure
him there was no one else. To run back to his carriage and let the night and its adventure
play out until dawn. She felt so much curiosity about the world that she’d never been
allowed to see firsthand. What other young lady of her acquaintance had ever been
inside the walls of a low-end gaming hall, and seen the life the less fortunate half
of London lived? It had been ugly and dangerous and a mistake for her to go alone,
but she felt grateful for having expanded her understanding, and Cormack made her
feel safe.

But she had to let go. To do so, she forced herself to face the reality she’d chosen
to ignore: that he’d been at the Blue Swan, which meant he’d been looking to drink,
gamble, or find a woman. Yes, the night had been exciting and he had kissed her and
seen her safely home, but it was time to say good-bye.

“It’s time for me to go,” she said.

Scowling, he turned to consider the back façade of her grandfather’s town house. Lamps
would be lit in the entrance hall, in expectation of her mother and sister’s return
from the Heseldon ball, but the back of the house, where her grandfather’s bookroom
and the conservatory were located, was dark.

“If you aren’t going to the door, how do you propose to get inside without being seen?”

“I left a window unlocked on the ground floor, behind some shrubberies.”

“Of course you did.”

His manner, more acerbic now in tone, stung, and she bristled. It seemed clear that
now that he couldn’t have what he wanted, he couldn’t wait to be rid of her. In silence,
they walked together toward the back of the house, making their way through the small
garden.

She couldn’t help it. She wanted to hear it from him. “Why were you at the Blue Swan
tonight, Cormack? Are you a gambler, or was it a woman you wanted—or both?”

She hoped he’d be shockingly honest with her, and destroy every heroic idea she had
about him.

His boots crunched on the gravel. “I’ve been looking for someone for a very long time.
A man.” His mouth twisted with displeasure. “I thought that tonight at last I’d found
him.”

It was not the response she’d expected.

“I see.” Why did it relieve her so immeasurably to know he’d not been at the Blue
Swan for gaming or women, but to find a man?

“A friend of yours, or a business associate?” Daphne led the way down a narrow gravel
path that led between the house and a row of tall shrubberies, every nerve in her
body drawn tight, knowing that Cormack followed close behind.

“Most certainly not,” he growled.

“An enemy, then.” She glanced behind, so that she might see his expression. Yet he
towered above her, an inscrutable shadow.

“He wronged someone very important to me,” he uttered with quiet ferocity.

“Someone you love?” she dared to ask.

“Very much so,” he hissed through his teeth.

A tremor moved down her spine. What would it be like to be loved by such a man? Overwhelming,
she suspected, in a wonderful sort of way. At the same time, she feared for the man
he sought. She’d seen Cormack nearly destroy a man tonight, all in defense of a stranger—her.
He didn’t even love her.

“After what occurred tonight,” he added, “I don’t know how I will find him again.
Likely anyone who could tell me was carried off by the authorities.”

She glanced up to the window overhead, and stopped. “This is the window.”

“Then this is good night and good-bye.” He shifted his stance. They stared through
the darkness at one another, he sullen faced and she suddenly and overwhelmingly morose.

“I’m glad I was there,” he said.

“So am I.” She wanted desperately to help him somehow, as thanks for saving her. As
thanks for behaving like a gentleman when he could have been a lecher or a murderer—or
worse. He’d returned her home in one healthy piece, and she couldn’t be more grateful.
“Cormack, I—perhaps I can help you.”

Shadows carved hollows beneath his cheekbones. “How?”

“That man on the stage tonight, his name is Mr. Bynum. I’m not certain, but I believe
he is the proprietor of the Blue Swan, because he’s the man responsible for collecting
my father’s debt.”

“Tell me more.”

“He escaped tonight.”

“How do you know?”

“After the authorities burst inside, like everyone else, I ran. I had a hackney waiting
outside, you see, that I’d paid to wait for me just around the corner. Mr. Bynum pushed
me aside and took it from me, him and two of his girls.”

Cormack straightened, a dangerous heat forming behind his eyes. “I see. And that’s
when the other man dragged you off into the alley.”

“Yes.”

Cormack’s eyes went flat, and almost black. When she reached a hand to touch his arm—to
try and bring him back to the present, he flinched. “I’m listening.”

“He seemed to know all the regular patrons at the Blue Swan. He told me tonight that
he keeps an office above the tobacco warehouses on Rosemary Lane.”

“Why did he tell you that?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“He said for me to come there if I wished to discuss my options for paying off the
debt more quickly.”

He exhaled sharply. “You know what he means by that.”

“Of course. I just wanted you to know where to find him. Perhaps, if given some incentive,
he could help you find the man for whom you search.”

Cormack moved closer, and his shadow enveloped her. He raised his hand to touch her
cheek, to smooth his palm against her skin. She closed her eyes, in ecstasy at his
touch.

“Kate…”

“Good-bye, Cormack.” She laughed, drawing away. “I mean it this time.”

But behind her smile, the mere speaking of the words sent her spiraling into remorse.
To think that she would never see him again. That she would never kiss those lips
again.

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