Some Like It Wicked (Hellion's Den) (5 page)

“A wise notion, no doubt.”

“I have also made notations next to those events that are more likely to attract eligible gentlemen.”

“Of course.”

Although there was nothing to be detected upon the deceptively angelic features, Jane was quite certain that he found a great deal of amusement in her methodical approach to their flirtation.

“I have also made a list of those things you might be expected to know of me,” she grimly plodded onward.

“Ah. And what things would that include?”

“The names of my parents and grandparents, details of my home in Surrey . . .” Her words broke off as he gave a deep, rumbling laugh. Really, men were the most mysterious of creatures, she seethed as she glared into his lean countenance. “What is so amusing?”

That devilish, fascinating smile flashed at her spurt of annoyance. “Obviously you have not indulged in many flirtations.”

“I thought that we had already established that fact. It is, indeed, the reason you are here,” she retorted stiffly. “Why is that so humorous?”

He paused to allow his black gaze to roam freely over her tidy violet gown and plain features. “My dear, if I truly were conducting a flirtation with you, my very last interest would be in the names of your parents or details of your estate.”

Ridiculously, a shiver raced through her at his husky words. They seemed to hold a wealth of meaning far beyond her understanding.

“Oh.” She awkwardly set aside her list. “What would your interest be?”

He slowly stood, his gaze searing into her wide eyes. “Your favorite flower, your preference in perfume, if you desired to be kissed upon your neck or the soft curve of your breast.”

Jane hurriedly placed her hands in her lap to hide their trembling. Kissed upon the neck? Her . . . breast? Did gentlemen do such things?

It sounded utterly decadent. And far too pleasurable for her poor, untutored heart to bear.

“Oh.”

“I would know if your hair is as soft as satin and whether your lips taste of passion. I would know the feel of your skin better than yourself,” he relentlessly continued, boldly stalking around the desk. Then, without warning, he abruptly swiveled her chair so that he could place his hands upon the padded arms, effectively trapping her. Her throat tightened as his beautiful countenance lowered until it nearly touched her own. Her heart tightened as his warm breath stroked her heated cheeks. She dared not consider what else was tightening as tingles of excitement raced through her blood. “And, of course, whether your curves were perfectly formed to fit beneath my body.”

She abruptly sank back into the unrelenting leather. “I take your meaning, Mr. Caulfield,” she breathed unsteadily.

Hellion pulled back to regard her with glittering eyes. “If you shrink from me in terror, Miss Middleton, no one will believe we are conducting a flirtation.”

The fact that he was absolutely correct only increased her sense of discomfort. She was supposed to be considering this as a business deal. Not as a nervous virgin being exposed to her first taste of passion.

“You merely took me by surprise.”

His brows lifted as he straightened and stepped from the chair. “Stand, Miss Middleton.”

“Why?”

His expression was far too determined for her liking. “There is no need in progressing any further if you cannot be depended upon to uphold your part of the charade.”

Why the . . . toad! Uphold her side of the bargain? She had never failed at a business transaction yet. And she wasn’t about to start now. No matter how dangerous her heart warned this gentleman might be.

“I will do well enough, sir.”

“Oh?” he taunted softly. “Is that why you are cowering in that seat as if you fear I might ravish you at any moment?”

“I do not fear you.”

“Then stand.”

He had effectively challenged her pride. What else could she do?

“Very well.” She reluctantly thrust herself to her feet, relieved when her less-than-stable knees held her upright. “Are you satisfied?”

“Not nearly,” he murmured.

Keeping her gaze firmly ensnared, Hellion stepped forward to gently cup her face in his hands. He used no force but Jane was powerless to pull away as his fingers stroked slowly over her cheeks and down to trace the curve of her mouth. With an odd fascination his thumb brushed her lower lip over and over until his head at last lowered and his intention became clear.

He was going to kiss her.

The knowledge entered her foggy mind the same moment his mouth softly touched her own. Then there was no possibility of thought.

His lips were warm and shockingly possessive. Not demanding but rather compelling as they sweetly pressed and nibbled. With infinite patience he explored the taste and shape of her mouth, as if she were a rare treat that must be savored with infinite care. Then, lightly his tongue stroked until her lips instinctively parted in invitation.

An odd, intoxicating pleasure coursed through her blood, making her light-headed and as dizzy as if she had just consumed a fine bottle of champagne.

Oh, this was dangerous, she fuzzily acknowledged. Wickedly, delightfully dangerous.

Murmuring soft words of encouragement, Hellion stroked his lips over her heated cheek and down the length of her jaw. The dazzling sensations raced through her, distracting her from the fingers that determinedly stroked down the arch of her neck, and then audaciously lower to sweep over the curve of her breast.

She might not ever have noted those roaming fingers if a shocking jolt of desire had not clenched her stomach when he captured the tip of her nipple and gently rolled it to an aching peak.

That she could not help but note.

Abruptly wrenching away she regarded him with a wary gaze. “Mr. Caulfield, I would allow no man such liberties,” she managed to retort in breathless tones.

He appeared perfectly composed as he regarded her flushed countenance. Perhaps those black eyes were a trifle darker, and his breath a tad shallow, but there was certainly none of the flustered bewilderment that she was experiencing.

Annoying man.

“No man?” He arched a golden brow. “Then I suggest you forget your notion of acquiring a husband, my sweet.”

“I . . . well, certainly I will do my duty once I am wed . . .”

“Duty?” He gave a low chuckle, a far-too-knowing expression upon his countenance. “Did it feel like duty when you were shivering and moaning beneath my touch?”

Jane abruptly stiffened. Had she shivered? Perhaps even moaned out her pleasure?

Dash it all. This was like no other business she had ever conducted. How was she to keep control of the situation when he was able to reduce her to a quivering half-wit with the slightest touch?

“Enough,” she commanded as she sucked in a steadying breath. “I believe you are having sport with me.”

“Not yet, but I assure you I would like to have sport with you,” he murmured with a deliberate glance toward her disheveled neckline. “For such a tiny thing you are surprisingly delectable.”

“You . . . Is this how you behave with all innocent maidens?”

His lips twisted with wry amusement at her accusation. “Of course not, but then I have never set up a flirtation with an innocent woman. If I did, however, I am certainly male enough to desire more than a chaste kiss upon your fingers. Much more.”

She did not doubt that for a moment. There was a restless sensuality about him that was nearly tangible. A sensuality she could still taste upon her lips.

“This flirtation is pretense only,” she reminded him in stern tones. “There is no need to handle me in such an . . . intimate fashion.”

He arched a brow at her stern reprimand, his gaze returning to her tingling lips. “Miss Middleton, whatever my faults, I am no easily duped school lad. I know when a woman is enjoying my touch and for a moment there you were more than delighted with my intimate handling,” he softly mocked. “Indeed, I expect with a bit more coaxing you would have been pleading for more of my intimate handling. A charming notion, is it not?”

Her mouth dropped open at his audacious claim. “Mr. Caulfield . . .”

He abruptly held up a hand as he noted the angry flush upon her cheeks. “No, no, my dear. Let us not wrangle. I am simply attempting to ascertain that you will not swoon the first occasion I approach you in a crowd.”

She gave a loud sniff. “Do not be absurd. I never swoon.”

“There is also the undoubted fact that there is an unmistakable air of awareness between two people attracted to one another. It is in the glances they exchange and how they seek to touch one another whenever possible.”

“I wish to be seen as an eligible lady, not a trollop,” she informed him sourly.

He did not appear impressed by her logic. Instead he crossed his arms over his wide chest and offered her a flat stare.

“Let us get one thing straight from the beginning, Miss Middleton. You might be all that is clever when it comes to numbers and lists; however, you are a rank amateur when it comes to flirtations. I, on the other hand, am an expert, which I presume is the reason you chose to hire me.”

“Yes, but . . .”

“Then allow me to know what is best when it comes to this proposition.”

Her lips thinned. “You are very arrogant.”

“And you are a managing shrew who will never discover a husband if you do not halt your habit of taking command of every situation,” he retorted without apology. “No gentleman desires a wife who is determined to run roughshod over him.”

Her mouth opened to slay him with her tongue when she grudgingly swallowed the hasty words. Although strong willed and blunt of speech, she was not so obstinate that she couldn’t admit when she was in the wrong.

It was true that she did possess a forceful nature and habit of demanding that others bow to her will. It no doubt came from the fact that she had been thrust into her father’s position at such a young age. The grim battle to maintain control over her destiny was not an easy one. And one that she fought almost daily.

She gave a restless shrug. “It is difficult for me. I am accustomed to being in command.”

The elegant features abruptly softened at her reluctant concession. “Then perhaps it would be best for you to return to Surrey, my dear. No gentleman worth his salt will tolerate being led upon your leash.”

She abruptly stiffened at his words. “No, I cannot.”

His gaze narrowed at her sharp refusal. “Why? Is being wed truly so important? You have what most maidens only dream of possessing. Security, wealth, and an independence that is rare for a woman.”

Jane grimaced. In truth she was for the most part quite content with her existence. What woman would not be? As Hellion had pointed out she possessed a rare freedom for a woman. Why would she desire to burden herself with a demanding husband?

The answer was quite simple. Deep in her heart she knew that her father had been right. She was alone. Desperately alone.

“I made a promise to my father upon his deathbed. And indeed, I find as I grow older I desire to have a family. My home in Surrey is an empty place without my parents.”

There was a long pause as he considered the resigned determination etched upon her countenance before he gave a slow nod.

“I see.”

“Do you still intend to help me?” she demanded.

“That depends.” He stepped forward and placed his hand beneath her chin so that she could not avoid his glittering gaze. The faintest shiver raced through her at his warm touch. “Will you follow my lead? Will you allow me to decide how this flirtation is to proceed?”

Better prepared on this occasion Jane did not flinch from his touch. She could not, however, entirely control the beat of her unruly heart.

“Within reason.”

The aquiline nose flared with irritation at her refusal to hand over complete control, then, without warning, he gave a sudden laugh.

“Blast it all, you are a stubborn wench.”

She offered him a wry glance. “No, just wise enough not to give free rein to a notorious rake.”

A disturbing heat sparked to life in the devilish eyes. “My dear, surely you do not believe your virtue is in jeopardy?”

Her breath threatened to disappear entirely as a prickling awareness filled the air. “I believe you are a very, very dangerous gentleman.”

He smiled, slowly and wickedly, as his fingers moved to stroke the unsteady line of her mouth.

“And you, my sweet, possess curves that were meant to fit into a gentleman’s hands and lips that might very well drive me mad.”

 

 

It had been a simple matter to slip into the elegant town house.

Far too simple, Biddles acknowledged with a faint sigh as he busily rooted through the various correspondences that had been left in a drawer of a satinwood table. Since his return to London from the Continent his various skills had become sadly rusty.

And he had become wretchedly bored.

What the devil was the fun in attending social events to overhear the tedious conversations of French immigrants? Or even the handful of diplomats that had flocked to town? What was the pleasure in shadowing the occasional Napoleon sympathizers who did not possess the wits to keep their mouths shut when they were in their cups?

Even the few coded messages he had intercepted and then altered to confuse the enemy had been child’s play.

He desired a challenge. Something that would demand a true test to his undoubted intellect. Something that would put an end to his jaded apathy.

With another sigh Biddles glanced through a stack of letters that Miss Middleton had tidily stored in the desk. At least Hellion had provided some measure of distraction. Although it did not seem likely that the staunchly prim maiden would possess a dark, hidden secret, there was always the faint hope. He was all too aware that some of the most respectable members of society possessed shocking habits.