Beauty and the Earl (12 page)

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Authors: Jess Michaels

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical romance, #Regency

BOOK: Beauty and the Earl
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Liam nodded. “Yes. The servants will arrange a late snack there for us, if that is agreeable to you both.”

The women exchanged a glance, and Violet smiled. “I never turn down a snack.”

“Especially if it is from your kitchen, my lord,” Olivia added as Mal opened the door and motioned them out.

They began to walk down a long path that led them away from the house and the drive and through the rolling hills of the small estate. As they walked, Violet looked around, her eyes wide and her smile very real.

“It is gorgeous,” she said after they’d gone a quarter of a mile. “Truly, Liam.”

“Thank you,” he said with a sigh. “My father had many estates, but I must say this is one of my favorites.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Because of its proximity to Bath’s healing waters?”

He looked at her. Was she finally asking him about his injuries? She had so avoided all that for so long, he was almost more willing to share what he normally withheld.

“I don’t find the waters to be very helpful,” he admitted. “You must have noticed I haven’t returned to the baths since you found me there over a week ago.”

She gave him a small, mischievous smile. “I thought you might have found yourself too busy to do so. I feel I have monopolized your time.”

He laughed at her teasing. “Your company seemed to give me greater relief at any rate, so if you are monopolizing my time, it has its benefits beyond the obvious.”

She looked at him more fully. “I’m glad, Liam. If I help at all, then I am very glad for that.”

He shifted with discomfort at her focused words and stare. What did one say to it? What she offered was so temporary, it could change nothing. Even if it sometimes felt like it changed everything. That was an illusion brought on by physical pleasure.

He returned his gaze to the path and frowned. Mal and Olivia were several paces ahead of them. Olivia had wound her hand with Mal’s and she rested her head on his shoulder as they walked.
 

It was more than evident that their two friends had begun their own intensely physical relationship. Liam hadn’t thought much about it, really. It kept Mal and Olivia busy while he drowned himself in Violet. And his friend deserved his own pleasure, especially after putting up with Liam for so long.
 

But as he watched Olivia and Malcolm stroll up the path, for the first time he realized just how deep their relationship had gone. His friend wasn’t one to show affection for a woman in such ways, not something sexual, but something that spoke of a deeper connection.

He found himself glancing again at Violet. Violet who did not hold his arm, let alone his hand. Violet who was staring straight ahead, obviously seeing exactly the same thing he was but not saying a word about it. Violet who kept their relationship as surface and physical as he did, a few dark confessions aside.

He scowled, though he couldn’t think of a way to explain why he was suddenly annoyed at both the couple before him and the woman at his side. He didn’t
want
to keep her.

And yet the fact that she didn’t want to be kept burned him down deep, in places he thought had died after his accident. But they weren’t dead after all. They were very much alive. And that was so terrifying he could hardly take it as he forced himself to remain calm and keep his feelings from his face.

Now if only it was so easy to keep whatever feelings these were from troubling his already troubled heart.

 

 

An hour later, Liam found himself increasingly irritated and, from Violet’s side glances, she recognized that he was angry but couldn’t understand why. And damn, neither could he. He just felt…out of sorts. And since he had spent years avoiding exactly these feelings, he wanted to lash out at everything and everyone around him.

Instead, he was sitting on a picnic blanket, watching Olivia, Malcolm and Violet chat like nothing in the world was wrong. Not that he was listening to a word they said, only stewing in his own thoughts.

A fact made very clear when Olivia took a sip of wine and said, “Will you ever return to London, my lord?”

He blinked, looking at her. “You are asking me?”

She drew back slightly. “Yes, Lord Windbury. We were talking about our return to the city in a fortnight or so. And I wondered if we might expect to see you and Malcolm there at some point in the future?”

She looked so damned hopeful, her eyes wide as she purposefully didn’t look at his friend. But there were dreams in the brightness of her face. Worse, Mal didn’t seem to be discouraging those dreams.
 

“I don’t know,” Liam forced himself to respond. “I haven’t put much thought into where I will go after our time in Bath is finished. But I don’t care for London. I swore to myself I wouldn’t return there again.”

He flinched as he thought of the circumstances under which he had made that vow. His words again revealed too much.

Olivia tilted her head, her gaze holding his. But unlike when Violet looked at him so closely, Liam felt the intrusion of Olivia’s stare.

“I suppose I can appreciate that vow,” Olivia continued. “After all, I understand there is little to bring you back to London. You have cut ties with your sister since her marriage, haven’t you?”

Liam heard Violet suck in her breath in surprise, and Mal jerked his gaze toward Liam. But he couldn’t do anything but stare at Olivia, feel her question sink into his skin.
 

“I do not speak about such things,” he managed to choke out.
 

Olivia hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course, after what you went through—”

Liam pushed to his feet and turned away from his friends, from Violet. He stood there, on the edge of the blanket, hands clenched at his sides as he tried to measure his breathing, tried to find a way to control himself when what he wanted to do was snap at Olivia in a way he knew would bring Malcolm to her rescue.

He felt a touch on his elbow and looked to find Violet at his side. She looked up at him, dark eyes tinged with concern, but also with interest. So the topic of his past wasn’t as disinteresting to her as she pretended.

“Why don’t we walk around the lake?” she asked, her voice soothing like she was talking to an injured animal or frightened child. “I think we could both use the exercise.”

He looked at her, both wanting her at his side, and driven to push her away in order to protect himself, to protect her. Instead, he let her take his arm and led him away from Mal and Olivia.

In silence, they began a slow circle around the large lake. After a few moments they moved into a copse of trees that would put them out of the sightline of the other two and suddenly Liam felt as though he could breathe again. As he sucked in air, Violet shook her head.

“I’m sorry about Olivia,” she said softly.
 

“She only says the same thing everyone else does,” he said with a shake of his head.

“But it isn’t her place to do so. And she knows it.” Violet sighed with frustration. “Sometimes she just doesn’t think.”

Liam pursed his lips, his displeasure still bitter on his tongue after this very long and unsatisfying day.
 

“And what about you?” he bit out, his tone sharp.

She stopped in the path, released his arm and turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re playing a game with me.”

All the color left her face in such a swift moment that he nearly reached out to steady her in case she would faint.
 

“A game,” she repeated, her tone flat and drained of all emotion. “I don’t understand you.”

He shook his head. “You found me and seduced me, but you pretend you don’t want to know anything about me. You never ask me about those things your friend addressed with me today.”

“Is that what you want?” she asked, folding her arms. “Because I’m confused by your sudden anger at me. After all, you tell me how women stroke you and pretend to care, how they try to force confessions out of you about a painful past and you don’t like it. But if I don’t do the same, then I’m wrong?”

He folded his arms. When she put it that way, it made him sound like an ogre. But he couldn’t help his frustration, even if he couldn’t explain it in the slightest.
 

“I don’t know,” he admitted through clenched teeth.

Her expression softened a fraction and she reached out. He watched as she took his hand, quite like Olivia had done with Malcolm earlier in the day. She wore no gloves and her fingers were soft and warm in his hand.
 

“I have been open with you,” she said softly. “More open than I have ever been with a man. And if I don’t ask you about the past, Liam, it isn’t because what has happened to you isn’t of interest to me. If you want to tell me something, I’m here. I’m listening.”

He turned his face, hearing his breath loud in the quiet around them. God damn, but he wanted to tell her everything. Everything he remembered and felt. He even wanted to tell her about his despair. About his emptiness. He wanted to pour himself over her and let her take, even for just a moment, the burden he had carried for years.

But to give her that burden meant to give her himself. If he did that, it couldn’t be taken back. It couldn’t be changed. And the future it implied wasn’t one he was destined to have. He had made that decision long ago.

He shook his head.

“We should go back,” he said softly, refusing to meet her gaze.
 

She was still and silent for a moment, then she released his hand. “Very well.”

She turned her face, but he saw a flicker of hurt in her normally unreadable dark eyes. He found himself opening his mouth, moving to comfort her or to make those confessions once more, if only to please her.
 

Instead, he motioned for them to turn around. “If we walk around the lake it will take us half an hour at best. Why don’t we return the way we came?”

She nodded. “Of course, whatever you’d like, Liam.”

Though she said the right words and didn’t seem to be pouting, Liam still watched her as they walked back to the lake and their blanket. He had hurt her, a fact that shocked him.
 

“Violet,” he began, but she stopped, staring, and his attention was drawn away to whatever had caused the shocked look on her face.

He drew back as he saw it. There, on the blanket, the food pushed out of the way, were Mal and Olivia. Naked and making love with an abandon that was as enviable as it was utterly shocking.

Chapter Ten

Violet stared in astonishment as Mal moved into a seated position, dragging Olivia with him so that she wrapped her legs around his back. He lifted his hips, the two of them groaning in time with every thrust.
 

Violet sucked in a breath. She and Olivia had never involved each other in their sexual escapades, though more than one lover had asked them to do so. But seeing her friend be so thoroughly pleasured was a surprisingly arousing thing.

Beside her, Liam seemed as transfixed, and they stared together as Olivia threw back her head with a cry that signaled her release. Mal laid her on her back on the blanket and she cupped his firm, muscular backside as he began to drive into her in earnest. He exploded without withdrawing from her body and they cried out together before he cupped her face and kissed her deeply, passionately.

Seeing them fuck was one thing, but watching them kiss with such passion, with such intense and connected emotion, was what made Violet turn her face in embarrassment.

Liam took her hand and motioned for the path. She hurried after him, casting a few glances behind her as Olivia and Mal continued kissing like they couldn’t get enough. Like they would never part if they had their choice.
 

And through her shock, through her titillation, she felt something else—jealousy.
 

But she couldn’t feel that. That would mean she wanted that kind of intense connection with…with
someone
. She cast a glance at Liam, who was dragging her along with a grim expression.
 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what she was—”

She didn’t get to say anything else. Liam interrupted her by grasping her by her shoulders and spinning her around until he pinned her on a large tree by the side of the path. His mouth came down, hungry and hot on hers, and she melted against him.

He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t shocked by what he saw…he, like her, was utterly aroused. She felt it in the desperation of his kiss. She felt it in the hard swell of his cock that nudged her stomach through their clothes.

“I want you,” he growled, pulling away just enough to loosen his trouser fly and free his erection.
 

She gasped and reached for him, stroking her hand over him as he cupped her hips and lifted her, positioning her better to be taken. His mouth caught hers and he kissed her, rough and demanding, sucking her tongue and biting her lip. It was harsh and dark, and she clung to him as he lifted her skirts and shoved them aside to find her sex.

When he touched her, she shuddered, for she was already wet, already ready for what he would do. She rocked her hips toward him, demanding his taking, his claiming.

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