Authors: Cheryl Holt
He’d never be loyal or faithful, would regularly engage in affairs, and she couldn’t flinch every time he took a paramour or had his name linked to another woman. It would drive her mad.
Disgusting as it sounded, acceptance of his infidelity was the price she had to pay in order to secure the estate, and she was fully prepared to pay it. What was it to her if Mr. Drake had pranced off with an old flame? How was his liaison with Mrs. Nipton relevant to Amelia and her long-term goal?
Still, as her brother shared the information, she felt it like a crushing blow, and she was swamped by a wave of jealousy. It was a potent and insane burst of emotion that made no sense at all.
She forced a smile and said, “She’s very beautiful, but she seems self-centered and boring to me. I can’t fathom the attraction.”
“That’s because you’re still a maiden. If I thought it appropriate, I’d explain some of the reasons Mr. Drake chases after her, but I wouldn’t want to shock you with any risqué stories.”
“No, please don’t tell me any. I couldn’t bear to imagine them in the throes of passion. I don’t need to hear how they entertain themselves in private.”
She chuckled, pretending not to care, but thanks to Lucas Drake, she now had some solid ideas of how men and women acted when they were alone. She could absolutely picture what Mr. Drake might be doing with Mrs. Nipton at that very moment, and the vision had her sick with envy. Much as she’d like to deny it, she wished he was doing those things with
her
.
The clock in the hall chimed three times, and she could barely stifle a yawn. Her brother wagged a finger at her.
“You should head to bed.”
“All this socializing is hard work.”
“It is.”
“So is husband hunting. I hadn’t realized how much energy it would require to encourage Mr. Drake’s attention.”
“Hopefully, his concern over your situation will continue to grow.”
“Hopefully,” she agreed.
“If he doesn’t exhibit more interest soon, we’ll up the ante so he’s even more riled.”
“You’re horrid, and I’m lucky you’re scheming
with
me rather than against me.”
“Yes, you wouldn’t want to be on my wrong side. I have too much of our father in me. I’m told he could be vexatious when crossed.”
“And you can be vexatious too?”
“Most definitely, which is why Mr. Drake will end up as your husband.”
“It will be marvelous if you turn out to be correct.”
“I will be. You’ll see.”
He downed his brandy, then helped her to her feet and escorted her to the foyer.
“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he promised.
“I can’t wait.”
“But it will be very late. I probably won’t get to my own bed much before noon.”
“Be careful, would you?”
“Always, Amelia. Always.”
Then he was gone, and she kept on up the stairs.
She trudged along, content but exhausted. Her spirits were flagging. She was afraid they’d played their game with Mr. Drake, but they’d lost.
As she arrived in her bedchamber, she was fretting and distracted, so it came as an enormous shock to hear a man say, “Hello, Amelia. It’s about time you got home.”
She whipped around to find Mr. Drake seated in a chair by the fire. From the looks of it, he’d been there for quite awhile. He was drinking her wine, having shed his coat and made himself comfortable.
Where was his precious Mrs. Nipton? He’d left the ball with her but, obviously, he’d rid himself of her and had sought out Amelia instead. She yearned to shake a fist in triumph.
“Lucas Drake! You scared the life out of me.” She was delighted to see him, but knew she shouldn’t let it show. She scowled. “Why are you in my room? You can’t have assumed it was all right to sneak in.”
“I had no desire to speak with any of your acquaintances. Nor did I wish to explain my arrival to Mrs. Middleton.”
“So you just barged in?”
“Yes.”
Amelia understood morality and virtue. She understood that the only appropriate response was to demand his immediate departure. But she couldn’t tell him to go. She didn’t
want
him to go.
It was quickly dawning on her that she was no better than she had to be. While she liked to envision herself as being very prim and proper, the sad fact was that—apparently—she had very base tendencies. Evidently, she was exactly like her mother who’d been loose in every imaginable way.
Mr. Drake had one type of relationship with females, that being a carnal one. If she could convince him to stay with her for a few hours, if she could tantalize him with the possibility of another salacious event, she’d be nearer to her goal than ever. She was excited by the prospect. She was practically giddy with anticipation, and any ethical reservations she’d previously possessed were pushed out by the urge to misbehave.
“This isn’t your father’s house,” she scolded.
“Thank God.”
“You can’t enter my private quarters whenever you feel like it.”
“As I already have, it’s clear that I can, so your complaint is ridiculous.”
She stomped by him and proceeded through the bedroom to the dressing room beyond. She didn’t peek around to see if he’d followed, but she expected he would. What was occurring? What was his objective? She didn’t know his, but she knew hers. When they were in close proximity, heat ignited and sparks flew. She merely had to keep that fire burning once it was started.
She went to her dresser and plucked the combs from her hair, and as the brunette mass tumbled down her back, he appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the wood, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her grab her brush and tug it through the lengthy strands. He was vehemently focused on the simple act.
“Your manners are growing more atrocious by the second,” she said.
“Why?”
“If you weren’t welcome in my sitting room, you’re definitely not welcome in here.”
“I like your hair,” was his reply. “Was your mother’s dark too? Did you inherit the color from her?”
“I don’t remember, but I’m told I look just like her.”
“She must have been very beautiful.”
“Mr. Drake! Don’t you dare be charming. You’ll make me like you.”
She finished her task and laid down the brush, then she spun and approached him. He didn’t move, but stood, blocking the door. He stared down at her, seeming angry and confused, and—to her surprise—a tad lost, as if he couldn’t figure out his purpose. She wasn’t sure herself.
“You left London,” she hurled like an accusation.
“For two weeks.”
“You didn’t even say goodbye.”
“Why would I have?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were running away from me.”
He snorted with affront. “I wasn’t running.”
“Are you positive?”
“Very.”
“Why have you returned? Let me guess. It was
not
to see me—even though this is the first place you’ve come.”
“It wasn’t the first place,” he scoffed.
“Now that you’re here, what is it you’re hoping to accomplish?”
“I have no idea.”
“You must have some clue.”
“Not really.”
“With all the entertainments currently in progress, you expect me to believe you had nothing better to do than visit me?”
“Nothing that interested me anyway.”
She raised a brow, curious over what had happened with Nanette Nipton, why the adulterous doxy hadn’t been able to keep him by her side. Amelia took it as a very encouraging sign that he’d fled Mrs. Nipton in order to be with Amelia. She
had
to take it as an encouraging sign. What else could she think?
“How long are you intending to stay?”
“I’m still debating.”
“It’s very late, Mr. Drake.”
“It is.”
“And I’m home alone.”
“I’m aware of that fact.”
“It’s the height of impropriety for me to let you remain.”
“It certainly is.”
“Are you supposing you can make it worth my while?”
His glorious blue eyes meandered down her body, assessing her lips, her breasts, the womanly spot between her legs. Her cheeks heated as she recollected how he’d brazenly touched her there, how she’d exploded with pleasure.
“I’m not supposing anything,” he ultimately said.
“Shall I pour you another glass of wine?”
“I don’t want anymore wine.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m about to show you.”
“I don’t imagine you should.”
He reached out a finger, laid it on her chin, then traced it down her neck and bosom, stopping at the bodice of her dress.
“You have to let me, Amelia.”
“So it’s
Amelia
now, is it?”
“Yes, and it’s time for you to call me Lucas.”
“How will that help our situation?”
“It won’t, but it will make me happy.”
“Have you been unhappy?”
“Not enough to matter, but things are suddenly looking up.”
“Are they?”
“How about you?” he asked. “Are things looking up?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Well, once I’m through with you, you won’t have any doubt.”
“Tough talk, Lucas. Let’s see if you can impress me.”
She rose on tiptoe and boldly kissed him on the mouth. Then she pushed him away and swept into the bedchamber. Before she took two steps, he swooped in from behind, lifted her, and tumbled them onto the bed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As Lucas landed on the mattress and rolled on top of Amelia, his mind reeled as he tried to figure out his plan.
He was courting disaster in a thousand ways. If he was discovered with her, there would be loud demands that they marry, and with his current low mood, he was in no condition to weather a storm of outrage from her brother and friends.
It had happened to him in the past when he’d dabbled with the wrong girl, but he never made amends. When he engaged in a flirtation, he was very firm up front that—should he be caught—he wouldn’t wed as a punishment for his misbehavior. His partners were eager to proceed, despite the danger, so when disaster struck, he never felt sorry or guilty. Why would he?
He never refused what was freely offered.
Amelia seemed perfectly willing to get herself into trouble, but he liked her more than he should. If he quarreled with her brother, her name would be muddied and her reputation shredded, so she’d be harmed when it was over.
For several weeks, he’d worried that she would imperil herself with an unreliable cad. Yet
he
was the most dangerous one of all, and while he didn’t want any other man to trifle with her, he was perfectly delighted to race down the road to perdition until he crashed at the end.
“We’re becoming awfully friendly all of a sudden,” Amelia said.
“Yes, we are.”
“Why do you suppose that is?”
“I have no explanation.”
“We hate each other, don’t we?”
Lucas considered, then mused, “
Hate
is a bit strong to describe how I feel about you.”
“So we’re lingering somewhere between
hate
and...what? That’s quite a big range of emotion.”
“We’re not suffering any emotion. We’re simple enjoying ourselves.”
“Are we?”
She arched a brow, giving him that schoolteacher look she was so adept at displaying. He wondered what her students had thought of her. Had they loved her? Had they been as exasperated as he always was in her presence?
His relationship with her was a mystery to him. Though he’d denied it, there was sentiment flaring, and they shared a blatant physical attraction. But when he had no good intentions toward her, and
she
was much too innocent to dabble, where could it lead?
There was no viable conclusion, and if he could have located his common sense, he would have leapt up and dashed out before he got himself in any deeper. Yet his common sense had fled, and he hadn’t a clue where it had gone.
During his prior visit, he’d learned that she had a very sexual nature. No doubt he could coerce her into even more perilous conduct. No doubt he could deflower her if he wished. Did he wish it? He couldn’t decide.
He started kissing her, and she heartily joined in. They were touching from lips to toes, so he could feel every inch of her delicious torso, and he was fairly certain that he wouldn’t stop until he’d seen her naked.
He liked the chase more than the ending. If he undressed her and viewed what was hiding under the fabric—a body likely not much different from any other female’s—perhaps some of his ridiculous lust would wane.
“We shouldn’t do this.” She drew away, frowning.
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“There’s no one at home, so there’s no one to rush in and catch us.”
“The fact that we won’t be caught doesn’t make it right.”
“Who’s talking about
right?
I’m interested in pleasure. Aren’t you?”
He flexed his hips, his loins pressed to her own. Her eyes widened with surprise, and she grinned.
“You are so wicked,” she said.
“I can be.”
“I have no idea why you’re here or why I’ve let you stay.”
“I think you might be crazy about me.”
She scoffed. “Only a man as vain as yourself would believe that.”
“You liked what we did last time. You want to do it again.”
“Yes, but I can’t figure out where we’re headed.”
“We’re not headed anywhere.”
“But usually, when two people dally as we have, they marry afterward.”
“Usually.”
“Neither of us is eager to wed.”
“No.”
“So...why should I take any risks with you?”
“Because we’re physically attracted.”
“We’re not animals. We don’t have to act on it.”
It was his turn to grin. “Who says we’re not animals? I’ve always been a beast. Ask anybody who knows me.”
“That’s true. You have the most horrid reputation of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“And it won’t ever get any better. I live however I please, and I refuse to be bound by society’s absurd rules. You should try it.”
“I should stoop to your level and become as dissolute as you?”
“If you spend much more time with me, my bad traits will rub off.”
“I’ve been worried about that.”