The Accidental Courtesan (14 page)

Noelle smiled sleepily, as if he'd just awakened her from slumber. Her hair was mussed and tangled, her simple gown was askew, and he had regrets that with all the kissing, he'd managed to keep his hands away from any of her softer parts. And in his eyes, no woman had ever looked more beautiful.

With deep frustration, he rolled off her and slid back on the bench. “I think we should discuss the necklace before I do something we both might regret.”

N
oelle startled up onto her bum at the rough sound of his voice, realizing she'd been sprawled out like a wanton on the mossy bench. She was floating in a dreamy fog of kisses, a fog that had scrambled her senses and left her feeling weightless. The reality of what she'd been doing with Gavin brought a prickle of shame, and her face burned.

She turned quickly away. What he must think of her! She denied meaning to the offer to become his courtesan, yet she proved time and time again that she could easily be swayed to become his trollop!

Lud! Thankfully, one of them had been rational and able to stop the madness, and it certainly hadn't been her!

Keeping her eyes averted, she settled on the furthest corner of the bench and began the process of smoothing every wrinkle, not matter how small, from her skirt. There was no reason for him to see the heat in her cheeks; he'd certainly find her being flustered amusing. Not even the dim light could hide the proof of her humiliation.

“I have told you everything I know,” she said, her voice tight. “I find it difficult to believe Bliss would be part of your attack. If she'd wanted to keep the necklace, she could have disappeared over the border into some obscure corner of Scotland where no one would ever find her.”

“From what I hear, Bliss wasn't chosen by Charles for her intelligence,” Gavin said wryly. “Her skills are in other areas.”

Noelle's flush deepened until she was certain her face was about to burst into flame. She could feel his warmth, smell his enticing scent. Those alone were enough to fray her nerves without discussing Bliss and her profession. She could only imagine what sorts of skills would make Bliss popular with gentlemen. She had literally no idea what sorts of things Bliss knew.

Noelle had the basic knowledge of what it took to make a baby and the virginal blood that was spilled a woman's first time. Man on top, the woman bracing herself for penetration. The whole act sounded messy and distasteful. It was impossible to imagine what some women found pleasurable in the act.

The kind of act Gavin was well on his way to showing her when he'd abruptly stopped.

Thank goodness! The humiliation of painfully losing one's innocence on a damp garden bench, with a man she hardly knew, would be appalling, to say the least. She might as well hang her damaged, virgin bloodstained drawers on the fence for all of London to see. Her ruination would be complete.

“I'm sorry I cannot be of more help.” She stood. The unpleasant path of her thoughts was leaving her close to insanity. If she didn't get free of her handsome tormentor immediately, there was no guarantee she wouldn't be reduced to a serious case of blathering and thumb sucking. “Good evening, Mister Blackwell.”

She walked stoically back to the house. She knew if she turned around and saw even the hint of hunger in his face, she likely would run back to him and launch herself atop his long, perfect body.

Why did he have such an incredible mouth? Put that mouth with his pitifully battered face and the warm, toe-curling scent drifting off his skin, and she was one step away from losing all control. A man who looked like Gavin should never be allowed to wander about London without a feed sack over his head.

When God gave him that face and mouth, they should've been countered with a big, deplorable hump on his back and a hairy, spiderlike wart on his nose. Anything less was terribly unfair.

The kitchen became a haven he couldn't penetrate as she hurried inside the warm room. She quickly locked the kitchen door behind her and wandered back through the house. There was no hurry to get to bed and suffer through restless attempts to sleep. The rest of her night would be very, very long.

 

G
avin watched her stiff spine and curvaceous rump as she stalked to the town house and slipped inside. He suspected she'd slam the panel shut, had she not worried about waking the staff and the neighbors.

He chuckled softly and stared at the huge oak tree. He wanted desperately to climb it and enter her window. They had business to finish. Their shared kisses, though a tasty nibble, were not nearly enough to satisfy the hunger she left inside his body. He'd like to kiss, to lick, his way across her curves, smell her lemony-cinnamon skin, bury himself so deeply inside her body he might never want to come up to breathe.

He knew she saw his reluctance to bed her tonight as rejection. There had been hurt mixed with humiliation. She should be relieved he'd left her innocence intact; a noble act for a man whom very few women would call noble.

A light flickered on in a window on the second floor, and a shadow passed behind a sheer curtain. He grinned and wondered if she had checked the sturdiness of the window lock.

The idea of her undressing for bed roused his cock for a second time tonight. The image of her creamy skin, rosy nipples, and the patch of curls between her legs, in the golden glow of candlelight, left him competing against yonder garden oak over who was more rigid.

Bloody hell! He'd never promised any woman more than brief encounters and shared pleasure. Truthfully, Noelle was the only woman he'd spent more than a fleeting amount of time thinking about at all. Perhaps it was the contradiction between the cool lady she portrayed to society and the passion she evoked with her mouth that kept him intrigued. Perhaps it could be her beauty. No. She was lovely, true, but he'd known several women who were her equal or superior in that regard.

It all came back to the night she'd crawled through a window and found her way into his room. She was disheveled and dressed as a lad. There were bits of plant debris in her hair as it tumbled over her shoulder in an unkempt braid. And never in his nearly thirty years had a woman so shocked and captivated him as his little thief-ruffian did at that moment.

No, it was the desire to see what she would do next that was keeping his mind locked onto her with a single-minded focus.

There was nothing predictable about Lady Noelle Seymour other than her unpredictability. Once she'd made the hasty decision to return the necklace, he suspected she'd discovered she'd liked the adventure. It had opened a door to a side of herself she'd never been allowed to explore freely.

And now, after his attack, she'd continue to be an integral part of his life until the mystery was solved. Somehow she and Bliss were deeply involved in a dangerous plot with the necklace at the center. He felt surprisingly and fiercely protective of Noelle, considering they'd only just met, and wouldn't allow her to be hurt. If the thugs found out about their connection or her title, he hated to imagine what lengths they'd go to, to get the bauble back. Fortunately, Charles had it, and Gavin knew nothing of its current whereabouts.

Gavin retrieved his coat and shrugged into it. With a last look at the one lit window of the town house, he walked down the path and quietly exited through the garden gate.

Since he expected not to sleep the rest of the evening, he'd spend it working on a plan to solve the mystery of the necklace. He knew a man who was considered an expert investigator. If anyone could find the identity of Bliss's maid, Mister Crawford could.

Once she was flushed out of hiding, working things out from there would be easier. From experience, he knew the trio of thugs didn't share enough intelligence to plan an elaborate plot to steal the necklace. Someone was working their strings.

He intended to find out who, before anyone else got hurt.

 

N
oelle used her sleepless night to formulate a course of action. She'd slipped into a simple white nightdress and robe, stoked up a fire in the study to fight the chill, and lit a lamp. Settling behind the desk, she wrote notes on a sheet of parchment about everything that had transpired and any questions she had about the case.

Thinking about the necklace and the frightening attack on Gavin—Mister Blackwell—kept her focused on the seriousness of the situation and off the memories of his heated kisses.

Well, as far off the memories of the kisses as was possible.

By the time morning dawned, she'd discovered that every avenue of plotting led back to Mister Blackwell and the earl. So she called for her maid and dressed in a simple rose muslin day dress. After grabbing a fig pastry to eat during the ride to the earl's town house, she pulled on her old bonnet and left the house.

The hackney covered the distance between the two houses far too quickly as her body tensed with nervous energy.

She'd never called on a man without a chaperone and never visited the home of an unmarried gentleman. Alighting from the rented hack, she glanced up and down the street for anyone who might recognize her, then lifted the hem of her dress and hurried up the steps toward the large oak door.

“I have come to see Mister Blackwell,” she informed the butler who answered her knock, and was ushered into the earl's large parlor. She very much hoped the earl was elsewhere today. Her unannounced visit was highly inappropriate enough, without the earl becoming aware of it. They had never been properly introduced.

She walked to the fireplace and ran a gloved hand over the intricate carvings on the mantel. Studying the scrollwork helped to momentarily distract her from intently listening for his approach.

Footsteps in the hall set her heart fluttering, and she carefully kept her head averted from the door. She'd planned to present a cool picture with the hope, for once and for all, that Mister Blackwell would keep his hands to himself.

“Now this is an interesting turn, My Lady.” Blackwell's voice behind her was heavily weighted with humor. “Had I known I'd be entertaining you this morning, I would have instructed the maid to freshen my sheets.”

Noelle spun about, her mouth agape. She readied herself to unleash a tirade in response to his outrageous comment, but the sight of him standing there in black boots, buff breeches, and a white shirt hanging open off one broad shoulder left her speechless.

It took a few seconds to manage one intelligible sentence. “Had I known you were dressing, I'd have instructed the butler not to hurry.”

His chuckle prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. It annoyed her to see the casual ease with which he appeared before her half-dressed. Still, the highly inappropriate behavior he'd displayed toward her from their first meeting should have prepared her for any eventuality.

Truthfully, she should be thankful he was wearing breeches.

Gavin looked at the mantel clock and back to her. His gaze slid casually down her body, and he cocked a one-sided grin. “It is half past eight, love. A few minutes earlier, and we would be having this conversation bedside.”

She felt her cheeks warm at the seductive change in his tone. Could she never get through one encounter with the man without wondering what the rest of him looked like without clothes?

Her hand twitched. She wanted to reach for the fireplace poker and clobber herself silly with the heavy item. Thinking of him naked was not acceptable. Unfortunately, she had no guarantees a head fracture would actually eject him from her lusty thoughts.

Perhaps braining him would be a better solution. It would certainly render him unable to batter her with sensual images. “Make no mistake, sir, we shall never do anything bedside, in bed, or over the arm of a chair. I am here on business, not to spend time exchanging sexual barbs with you while fending off your continuous advances.”

One brow went up, and his lips curled at the corners. Her mouth dropped open a second time when she realized his intention. That was exactly what he'd been thinking was the reason for her surprise visit! A sexual romp!

The space between her shoulder blades tightened until it cramped. She closed her eyes and pulled in a long, deep breath for patience. His arrogance knew no bounds! The man had a talent for setting her back on her heels, and he knew his power. He needed to be taken down a peg.

And the poker was very close.

“If your visit is not to fulfill every fantasy I've been carrying around since our first meeting, then why have you come, My Lady?” His gaze settled on her mouth.

Noelle stewed under his impertinence. It was time to exact a bit of revenge for all the gaping and dithering and sputtering he caused her to suffer through. She felt a strong desire to knock him, figuratively, off his feet. So she lifted her eyes to his and touched her tongue to her bottom lip.