Twice the Temptation (7 page)

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Authors: Beverley Kendall

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical romance, #Victorian

BOOK: Twice the Temptation
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All chivalrous thoughts fled from his mind when she caught her pink, bottom lip between her teeth on a whisper of a moan. Her eyes closed as if drugged, an invitation he accepted by crushing her mouth beneath his and cupping her bottom to press her indecently close. Catherine tipped her hips, adding a pressure of her own that caused the throb of pleasure in his cock to sharpen to something urgent and hot. 

 His tongue surged between her lips to tangle with hers. He couldn’t savor her as he wanted, for the long months of celibacy had taken its toll. Too long denied, he ravaged the sweetness of her mouth. But she wasn’t put off by his demand for she met him thrust for delicious thrust. Mouths locked and her hands anchored about his neck, he began leading her toward the nearest piece of furniture—a large mahogany desk—when a knock sounded on the door. 

“Katie, Lucas, is everything all right?” 

Lucas let out a string of invectives that would have gotten him tossed from church by his ear if he dared speak them aloud. Lifting his mouth a bare inch from hers, he said hoarsely, “Perhaps she will go away if we don’t respond.” His friendship with Charlotte preceded his introduction to Catherine by five years, but she strained those bonds right now. 

“I hardly think that likely,” Catherine replied, her tone filled with amusement and regret. 

The brush of her lips against the side of his jaw when she spoke suspended all coherent thought. He took her lips in another drugging kiss. He palmed her breasts over the snug-fitting silk of her gown. Firm, soft, glorious but the fabric between his hands and her flesh was an unwanted barrier. When he moved to slip his hand under the square embroidered neckline, the knock sounded again, followed by a more urgent, “Katie. Catherine. Open the door.” 

Catherine was the first to draw away, her hand trembling as she attempted to smooth the dishevelment of her hair. “One moment,” she called out, staring at him with wide eyes. Her gaze drifted downward until it met the erection he couldn’t hide. 

“Oh dear,” she said, touching the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. He was certain she wasn’t being deliberately provocative. Still, he grew harder. 

“You must do something about that before I can permit her to come in.” 

His throat rebelled and the intended laugh came out a groan. “If you want the thing to subside, then
you
do something about it.” 

She blushed a crimson red but her eyes hadn’t strayed from the bulge pressing against the front of his trousers. 

Lucas stifled another groan. “Must I remind you that before today, you are the last woman I’ve so much as kissed in over a year? So unless you want me to take you on the sofa or bend you over your brother-in-law’s desk, I suggest you direct your attention elsewhere.” 

Catherine gave a guilty start before turning away and heading toward the door. “Then for heaven’s sake, sit down—hide it.” 

He damn well knew where he wanted to
hide
it, as did she. Turning, he made it to the armchair closest to the desk just as Catherine opened the door. 

 

S
ome believed that a strange telepathy existed between twins. Some twins ended sentences for each other and some experienced their twin’s pain. She and Charlotte were not that way.

But then, one didn’t have to have telepathy to know what had been going on behind the closed library door, Catherine surmised as she took in the expression on her sister’s face. 

Charlotte knew. The knowledge was there in her eyes as she appraised her from head to toe in one glance and then peered over her shoulder to spy Lucas lounging in the winged-back chair. He hadn’t risen when she’d entered the room. Her sister would take note of this breach in protocol. But it couldn’t be helped in this instance.

“What on earth took you so long to unlock the door? And why was it locked in any case?”

If her sister saw fit to test her comic abilities, it would behoove Catherine to play along with the farce. “It was locked? I had no idea.” Unfortunately, she couldn’t feign guilelessness as well as she could indifference. But even in that she’d fallen short, as her response to Lucas had shown. She’d fallen faster than a house of cards.

Charlotte, allowing her response to pass, stepped into the room and glanced around. “I take it all is well? I heard no shouting. No crystal breaking. As a matter of point, I heard very little at all. Did you actually speak?” Her sister addressed the comment to Lucas, who regarded her as if nothing were amiss, a half smile curving his mouth.

“Cartwright must be rubbing off on you. I never knew you to be quite so droll.”

Charlotte laughed. “My husband is not droll, he is dry, and there is a wagon full of sawdust difference between the two. But, I shall take that as a compliment as for several years you thought me humorless.”

“You were humorless back then. But now, back in jolly ole England, you’re merely a scepter and a jingle hat shy of a jester.”

Charlotte smiled the contented smile of a woman who could not ask for more. To say Alex adored her would be like saying the ocean was deep or the Himalayan Mountains were high. With two beautiful children, and back in England after five years of separation from her family, her twin was happier than she’d ever seen her.

With a glance back at her over her shoulder, Charlotte lifted a finely arched brow. “Are you warm, Katie? You look flushed. And what on earth has happened to your hair? It looks—” her gaze shifted to Lucas “—disturbed.”

Catherine decided she’d throttle her sister later—in private. As it was, her not-so-subtle innuendoes had run their course.

“I wish you’d come out and say what you must and spare us all this beating about the place the way you are.” Her sister hadn’t the right to make light about something of this nature. Why only last year, Catherine had caught Charlotte and Alex in a far more compromising situation. Mussed hair and pink cheeks had been the least of their worries. At least Lucas hadn’t loosened or removed any of
her
clothes. That much could not be said for her dear sister and brother-in-law, who had never seen a bed, a chair, a welcoming rug they didn’t like or couldn’t utilize.

“Very well then, am I to take from the condition of your—” Charlotte perused her from mussed hair to her kid leather booted feet “—person that you are conducive to Lucas’s intentions?”

Catherine’s chinned jerked and she shot a look at Lucas. “You spoke to my sister about this first?” Did he think he’d needed to seek her twin’s permission? Good Lord, it wasn’t as if she were some innocent debutante, and her sister the man of the house. They were born minutes apart and
she
, not Charlotte, was the elder.

Lucas rose easily to his feet, his trousers showing no signs of the erection that had disturbed it before. “Would you have seen me had I contacted you directly? Well I couldn’t take the chance that you would refuse to see me, so I requested Charlotte’s help and she would not have assisted me unless she knew my intentions were completely honorable.” He passed her sister to stand at Catherine’s side, and with him came his masculine scent and heat. Her senses renewed a sexual hum.

“You aren’t upset about that are you, Katie?” her sister asked, her expression concerned and slightly perplexed.

Catherine knew she was being silly, but Lucas and Charlotte’s friendship far exceeded hers with him. They shared an easy rapport she rather envied. To feel so at ease with Lucas that she’d think nothing of teasing and smiling with him. Catherine had often wondered what that would be like. And her thoughts hadn’t been limited to that sort of innocuous interaction. She wondered what it would be like to do other things, carnal, decadent things to him she’d read about with the same self-assuredness.

“No, of course not. This whole thing has taken me by surprise, is all,” she murmured in a hurried attempt to shrug it off.

“You must be confused about the reason I wanted to speak with you,” Lucas said, a teasing note in his voice, the green flecks in his eyes subdued by the brown. “I wasn’t seeking your permission, I merely intended to give you fair warning. I am going to court you. You will be my wife. Is that not what I told you Charlotte?” He spoke without once removing his gaze from Catherine.

“Yes, he was quite emphatic, quite determined,” was Charlotte’s reply.

Arrogant men had never appealed to her, but this too self-assured American did. God only knew why. Oh, he was frightfully handsome, but that didn’t signify as she’d been the focus of lustful yearnings from her fair share of handsome gentlemen.

No, in him she saw a man who had upended his entire life to be with her. He truly loved her like no other man had ever done. And the glitter in his eyes told her he wanted her. It was just as well because she wanted and loved him with the same ferocity. But her pride demanded she not permit him to believe she would be so easy a conquest. This wasn’t a game she was playing, merely a flex of her twenty-five year old independent muscles.

“Are you saying I shall have no say in it?”

His eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. After a pause he smiled, his teeth white against the light copper of his skin. Lord, he had a beautiful smile to go with everything else about him. It was a crime and a travesty to arm a man so. “Certainly. You are free to say yes when I formally propose.”

Charlotte’s hand flew to her mouth in an effort to smother a giggle. She failed.

As with anything remotely resembling an order, Catherine’s spine stiffened in protest. “My, are you not presumptuous?” She hoped the coolness of her tone, the deliberate arch of one eyebrow sent
him
fair warning if he thought she would acquiesce to his desires just like that. A gentleman should have to earn a woman’s affections. In his case, she’d grant, he was off to a rousing start.

His next move startled her, tearing the seams of her composure. He stood close—mere inches away, his hand incongruously solicitous at her elbow, his mouth near enough to her ear to feel the wisp of his breath. “Truthfully, would you have me any other way?” His question was cocky, his tone scandal in the making. Catherine suddenly realized she’d like nothing more than to be scandalous.

A delicate clearing of the throat occurred to the left of Lucas’s shoulder, several feet behind him, where her sister stood watching their exchange. “It is obvious the two of you will have a difficult time keeping your hands off each other. I wager the courtship will have to be brief. Dare I hope for a June wedding?”

Guilty, Catherine dropped her hand immediately to her side. She hadn’t even realized she’d clutched his arm until her sister’s amused chastising voice shattered the moment. In the span of seconds, she’d forgotten Charlotte was there.

“No—” Catherine began.

Her sister held up her hand to stay her defense. “I must go and tend to my daughter. It is time for her nap. But the door shall remain open.” She gave Lucas a look of mock reproach. “You’ll have time enough for that
after
you’re married.”

Catherine felt the heat of a blush suffuse her face. Her sister was incorrigible as Charlotte herself had anticipated her wedding night by several months given she was pregnant before she fled England six years ago.

Lucas merely smiled, neither denying the charge nor responding to it. Moments later, they were alone, the library door left conspicuously open.

“She’s become feistier since she returned to the marquess. More confident.”

Catherine noted the admiration in his eyes. “She’s happy.”

“I am glad.” Lucas’s expression softened when he spoke. That he was deeply fond of her twin was evident. In a flash, however, his eyes narrowed, all softness gone from his features and in its place a glittering awareness. Hunger. Lust.

A frisson of excitement shot through her. She liked that he looked at her like that. Liked that
she
brought out the primitive side of him. Warmth and fondness had its place. At present, its place wasn’t here.

“Well I must prepare for supper.” She desperately needed to reclaim some control in a situation that seemed to be veering out of hers.

“May I call on you the day after next?”

Catherine blinked. He wasn’t going to call on her
tomorrow
? She had been ready and more than willing to cancel, move, rearrange her entire schedule to accommodate his visit. Yet he would not do the same for her? She felt foolish…again.

“Actually, I have plans with friends that day.” She certainly wasn’t about to sit at home awaiting his call.

“Break them.”

“I shall not.”
The nerve.

“Catherine.” A note in his voice suggested she was beginning to test his patience.

This provoked her even more.

“I’ll have you know, I
do
have a life. I have friends, engagements, and concerns I must take care of. I cannot simply be at your beck and call.” She lied without batting an eyelash.

“Forgive that presumptuous you so dislike in me,” he said, all bone-melting contrition. “But I must return to London this evening to settle some business matters. I planned to do so when I first arrived, but I was too damned impatient to see you. But I shall put it off another day if I must as you are my first priority.”

If his argument was meant to sway her—as it obviously was—it succeeded wildly. She was instantly wet clay ready to be molded. Why was he so adroitly capable of disarming her?

Because he is willing to sacrifice so much to be with you.

“You would do that for me?” she whispered in half wonder and disbelief. She was tempted to pinch herself. Or better yet, pinch him to make sure he was real.

Cupping her face in his palms, he stared deep into her eyes. His voice was low and heartfelt when he spoke. “I love you. I would do anything to make you happy.”

Catherine didn’t know how she didn’t melt into a puddle on the floor. But she somehow managed to reply, “Well since I’ve already caused you to change your schedule, I guess I can be accommodating.” As she held his gaze, she felt as shy as a girl in the throes of her first crush.

A moment later, his mouth was upon hers taking her lips in another deep, drugging kiss. By the time she caught herself and began to fully respond, he pulled away. “And I’ll be eager to see how accommodating you will be,” he said huskily.

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