Rogue Countess (4 page)

Then his mouth lowered to claim hers in a burning kiss.

Oddly, Anna’s first thought was of Leif, and the one time he had stolen a kiss from her. He had been drunk and in a playful mood and had pulled her down into his lap and planted a kiss on her lips before she had even known it was coming. Although he’d apologized afterward, she hadn’t regretted it. It had been short and swift, and Anna remembered being grateful he hadn’t been in a state of mind to use his full arsenal of skills in that kiss. As it was, the experience had been more than pleasant and had left Anna just a bit shaken afterward.

But even that experience with one of the most practiced and celebrated lovers in England was nothing in comparison to what she felt the instant Jude’s lips touched hers.

The bright and flashing passion took her by surprise.

After no more than a second, Jude turned her in his arms and hauled her up against him in a full embrace. He growled quietly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself to the kiss. She had no choice in the matter. Every bit of common sense had fled from her consciousness. She wanted to be closer. She wanted to feel more of his heat, more of the delicious desire pouring from his kiss.

Her fervent wish was granted as his hand slid into her carefully constructed coiffure to cup the back of her head. He positioned her so the kiss could go deeper. She drew a sharp breath, expanding her lungs and crushing her breasts against his solid chest. His tongue forced entrance and she gasped at the wicked sense of possession. Their tongues mated in a furious dance and she felt as though she may never get enough. The taste of his mouth was an intoxicating combination of fire and need, and the encompassing warmth of his arms secured her to him like a vice from which she had no wish to escape.

She was drowning, sinking deeply into the overwhelming desire that pulsed through her.

Wait!
This is all wrong
, a voice shouted in her head. Alarm speared icily through her body. She’d never intended the deception to go so far. She had underestimated the situation by drastic degrees.

Unwrapping her arms from around his neck, she pressed her palms against his shoulders and arched away from his kiss.

“Enough,” she muttered on a ragged gasp.

“Not nearly,” Jude replied as his mouth fell to the lengthened curve of her throat.

Chills chased over her skin and she closed her eyes again as she fought the burning temptation to sink back down into the whirlwind of passion. She managed to grasp onto one delicate detail in her mind that reinforced her need to escape.

He still had no idea who she was.

“I said enough,” she repeated more forcefully as she shoved free from his hold. She took two stumbling steps back, though it didn’t appear to be necessary as he did not reach for her. His arms dropped to his sides and he eyed her with lust and tension.

Anna fought to regain her breath and her composure. She met his gaze and his eyes burned bright with the flames of unspent passion. Need pierced her core.

She was surprised to feel the tears pricking behind her eyes as reality set in.

She hadn't expected this to be so painful. She thought herself to be well past the feelings of betrayal and disillusionment that had consumed her when she had been young and first married. Her daring little escapade tonight had succeeded beyond her expectations. In case she had harbored any doubt, she now had undeniable proof her husband was as wickedly adulterous as the stories had always claimed. She’d also learned she was not nearly as strong as she thought.

“I didn't think I could still be so foolish and naïve,” she whispered with a shaky little laugh as she lifted her hands to untie the ribbons of her mask.

“What the hell are you…?” Jude started, but as she lowered the mask from her face, his question trailed off and his glowering expression deepened.

She wondered what he was thinking as he stared at her then. Mostly, he looked annoyed and frustrated and still passionately aroused. Anna returned his stare, her chin lifted high, her eyes direct and challenging. She blinked away her threatening tears and recalled all the reasons she had to hate him.

“What's the matter, Jude?” she asked finally, pleased to find her voice steady and confident. “Nothing to say?”

“You know me?” he asked stiffly.

“That depends upon your definition of
knowing
, my lord,” Anna replied with a harsh twist of her lips.

Jude narrowed his gaze and his voice took on an almost menacing tone. “I am not a man to find enjoyment in dark pranks or willful subterfuge. It would be best if you disclose your identity and your purpose.”

“You really haven’t figured it out yet?” Anna asked then, surprised he hadn’t put it all together. “You said earlier that it wouldn’t matter if I were married.” She paused, but he remained silent and waited for her to continue. “What about your wife, my lord? Does she matter?”

Jude’s expression blackened. “I have no wife.”

Anna laughed then, a rough and raw sound. “I beg to differ, my lord husband.”

Jude was stunned as her words filtered through the lust still gripping his senses to the fine receptors of his consciousness.

She had called him husband.

Impossible.

He took an involuntary step back. His lust-drugged mind struggled to correlate the sensual, voluptuous vixen before him with the young woman he had stood beside all those years ago when he had recited those blasphemous marriage vows. That girl had been an awkward, skinny woman-child with dark eyes too furtive and unfathomable for one her age. It simply wasn't possible such an ugly little thing could turn out to possess the luscious heat of the woman whose amorous fire had almost consumed him just moments ago.

When he finally found mental purchase in the flood of uncomfortable memories loosed within him, he realized that the woman claiming to be his wife had slipped from the room. She left behind only her feathered mask on the floor at his feet and the faint essence of her dark and tantalizing scent.

Jude remained frozen in place for several more minutes, shocked, angry, confused and still highly aroused.

“Bloody everlasting hell,” he muttered viciously.

Chapter Four

Helena Sinclair, Dowager Countess of Blackbourne, was used to getting her way, either by charming female persuasion or subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, manipulation.

She had been the daughter of a poor baronet when she first met Jude’s father, the Earl of Blackbourne. The young and ambitious Helena had decided within five minutes she would be his countess and even his family’s strong disapproval of the match did not keep the marriage from taking place.

Jude knew that his mother’s humble and struggling origins had a lot to do with her current social attitudes. She was a complete and terrible snob. For that reason, she had also been extremely vocal against and at times even violently opposed to Jude’s marriage to the young Miss Anna Locke, a second daughter with no title, no wealth, not even beauty to recommend her. But Jude’s father had insisted on the marriage, and there had been no moving the old earl when honor and duty were at stake.

Jude rode over the ancient stone bridge that signaled his crossing onto the expansive Blackbourne property in Essex. The countryside around him had changed, trees had grown taller, new farmland had been created and freshly built homes could be seen in the distance. But it was all still familiar to him in a way that reinforced his decision to return. This was home to him no matter how long he had been away. He only wished he could better enjoy the moment, but his thoughts were darkened by the constant shadow of unresolved business.

The second he stepped foot in England, he had begun the process of dissolving his marriage, which involved locating the deceitful woman he had been forced to marry. The task had proven to be frustratingly difficult. His many discreet inquiries for information on the Countess of Blackbourne had been met with dubious responses. Some people seemed to assume he meant his mother and would give the address of his father’s old townhouse, but since he had gone there first, he knew for a fact the place was vacant. Some of his queries were met with a blank look as if the question wasn’t quite comprehended.

It had baffled him before and now it infuriated him. Because it had allowed her to approach him unawares. She had claimed the upper hand, and for a woman like that to have any advantage was dangerous and unsettling. In recent years he had begun to hope her wicked actions had been the product of childish selfishness. But their encounter at the ball forced him to acknowledge that he had been foolish to expect anything less than deception and trickery.

The depth of fury that had burgeoned within his heart the moment she announced her identity shocked him. He had thought himself well beyond such intense emotions over something that had happened so long ago. Yet his bright anger did not dissipate by the next morning. More than anything now, he wanted to bring a final end to the nasty business of his unwanted marriage. But there was a certain wisdom in allowing himself some time to cool the flare of righteous temper that had been roused by his perfidious wife.

She would have to be dealt with, but he was in no rush to see her again now. Not until he could be assured he had control over the passions she roused in his blood.

His mother, on the other hand, had become a more pressing matter. She must have learned that aside from Lady Marquart’s costumed ball, he hadn’t attended a single one of the events from her list. She had fired off several furious letters, demanding to know if he intended to shame their family any further with his disrespectful and scandalous behavior.

Her fit of temper would escalate if he didn’t deal with it head on.

So it was that two days after the masquerade, Jude arrived at Silverly. He entered the large Jacobean house by way of the garden that separated the house from the stables. Memories filled his senses as he walked through the home where he had grown up. He couldn’t escape how different his life would be had he been allowed to marry the girl of his choice, and he had to remind himself that dwelling on things said and done did not get you where you wanted to be.

“Judy!”

Jude involuntarily cringed at the nickname his mother had given him when he had still been a baby. She stood in the doorway of the morning room, her hands planted on her narrow hips as she pinned him with a look of supreme dissatisfaction.

“What are you doing here?” she questioned abruptly. “You need to be in London.”

“Hello, Mother,” Jude replied with a calm and unconcerned smile. Though it had been a lifetime since he had been subjected to one of his mother’s critical tirades, he easily recalled that arguing against her only fueled her fire. He walked toward her and planted a brief kiss on her thin cheek. “You are in fine form.”

And she was. He was a little surprised to see she barely appeared to have aged at all. A few more wrinkles by her eyes maybe, and her lips were a bit thinner, but otherwise, she looked much like she had when he left.

The Dowager Countess of Blackbourne narrowed her sharp gaze and gave him a sweeping perusal. Then she smiled and lifted a hand to pat her coiffure.

“Why, thank you, Judy. I do try to keep up my appearance.” She turned in the doorway and walked into the small sitting room, wriggling her fingers over her shoulder in a gesture indicating she wanted him to follow her. “It is terribly important, you know, to reflect the status of your position properly.” She waved her hand toward the dainty sofa and then took a seat herself in a large padded chair. “You, on the other hand,” she said in a sharply barbed tone, “seem determined to disgrace your role as head of this family.”

Jude relaxed against the back of the sofa and crossed one ankle over his opposite knee, causing his mother’s eyes to widen at the casual posture. He shook his head and sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy for her. He waited while she poured them both some tea, leaving his without cream and adding just a little sugar as he preferred. He took the delicate teacup and saucer when she handed them over to him. After taking a sip, he replaced the cup in the saucer and rested both on the top surface of his thigh.

“Mother,” he started in a tone he hoped would help to sooth her temper even if his words would not. “While I appreciate your perspective on a peer’s role in society, I am afraid I will have to disappoint you in that regard. I did not return to England to spend all of my time pandering to the self-important peacocks that strut around the ballrooms of London.”

The dowager’s mouth actually dropped open and Jude seized the opportunity to finish what he needed to say. It was a rare occurrence when his mother was rendered speechless.

“I have every intention of taking my responsibilities seriously and I will socialize as I deem appropriate, but there are more important elements to running an estate of this size than attending parties. And I plan to do this right. I hope you can understand and accept my position, but if not,” he added quickly as she appeared about to interrupt, “then you must know that no matter how much you rant and rave, I will not be manipulated or bullied from behaving in the manner I feel is right.”

The dowager sat staring back at him with her eyes wide and stunned, her mouth clamped shut. She had been in the middle of taking a sip when he had begun his explanation and still held her teacup halfway to her mouth. After another moment of silence while Jude waited patiently for her to form her response, she finally brought her cup to her lips, took a slow and deliberate sip, and then carefully returned it to the small table in front of her.