Read The School for Brides Online
Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith
The School for Brides (18 page)
“Intruding was not my intention, Your Grace.”
Without comment, he walked to a sideboard to pour a drink, then settled into a chair. He did not offer her tea or a seat. Clearly he was still angry with her.
It was the silence of the house she felt most deeply. Unless he had hidden a woman somewhere on an upper floor, he was alone. This pleased her immensely.
But his affairs, or lack of them, was not her pressing concern. She had not returned to share his bed, so she ignored his glare and straightened her shoulders.
“I have come to ask a favor of you. It is a situation of grave importance.” She pulled in a deep breath to steady her rapid heart. “One of my courtesans is missing. I would like to hire your investigator to find her.”
Chapter Ten
T
he woman did have a steel spine. He’d give her credit for not cowering under his glare. Even after his assurances he’d not expose Charlotte’s secrets, and though she had allowed him untold liberties with her body, he was certain she still distrusted, and possibly still despised, him with everything inside her.
he woman did have a steel spine. He’d give her credit for not cowering under his glare. Even after his assurances he’d not expose Charlotte’s secrets, and though she had allowed him untold liberties with her body, he was certain she still distrusted, and possibly still despised, him with everything inside her.
Yet, his spinster-courtesan had come to ask him for help in spite of those feelings. She was a puzzle.
Truthfully, Eva had every reason to feel nothing but contempt for him, and knowing she would not fall in love with him was a relief. He desired her, and nothing else. If only he could convince her to continue a physical relationship without strings, it would be mutually satisfying.
Love had no part in such agreements.
He swirled the brandy in his glass. “Why would I agree to such an ill-advised endeavor?” he said, keeping his voice bland. He’d hoped that after she’d become his lover, his stubborn busybody would give up her efforts to change courtesans into wives. Obviously, he’d been mistaken. It was another reason to limit his interactions with Eva to those of the carnal kind. She was entirely too rigid in her beliefs. “If a courtesan chooses to stay with her protector, it is not your place to interfere.”
The argument was old between them and should’ve already been put to rest. But Eva could not see that her actions would not alter the tradition of wealthy men taking lovers outside marriage. Men always had their mistresses. One woman would not change history or the future.
“I understand your disdain, Your Grace, though I do find your thoughts a mite confused. The courtesans come to me. I do not seek them out.”
She visibly struggled to control her anger.
“But I do not believe Yvette is with her lover, Your Grace.” She pressed a palm to her head. “He abused her.”
He clicked his tongue. “You have proof of this?”
She shook her head. Her delightful mouth thinned. He remembered how it felt when she kissed him and nibbled his jaw, then moved down to press kisses on his chest. He hardened despite her serious tone, and he shifted to hide the bulge in his breeches. She was driving him mad!
“It is more of a feeling.” She turned her palms up, pleading. He struggled to concentrate on her words when what he really wanted to do was rip off her clothes and take her, up against a bookcase. “It cannot hurt to prove me wrong.”
A feeling? That was her proof?
Feelings muddled up every interaction one had with women. It started at birth and grew until there was no reasoning with them most of the time. She was distressed over this . . . feeling?
“The woman has likely found herself another lover and is happily settled into a cottage or town house, counting her good fortune,” Nicholas said and waved a hand dismissively. He had more important matters to discuss. Like how to relieve the strain in his breeches.
Eva stiffened. “I do not think so, Your Grace.”
Nicholas expelled a harsh breath. Eva was a bottomless well of arguments. She could argue with a man until he was ready to hang himself with his cravat.
Evidently, her mouth needed something else to keep it occupied. Once he settled the case of the missing courtesan, he had a few ideas in that regard.
“If this Yvette has gone off and gotten herself into a fix, it is not my worry, or yours,” he said. “She’ll eventually turn up from her adventure, perhaps a bit the worse for it, and ready to resume her studies.”
Studies? He bit back a snort at his choice of words. As if it was possible to change the essence of a woman, a courtesan, and make her a proper wife. A foolish notion it was. That was why most men didn’t make their mistresses their wives. Their nature lacked the moral discipline to keep faithful to one man. A man should know with absolute certainty that he was the father of his own children.
“Do you lack even a single drop of compassion in that noble body of yours, Your Grace?” Eva said, her voice rising. “You may see women as less than your equal, but Yvette is a good person and she has people who care about her and her safety. I am not asking you to spend your gold to pay for this, as you call it, ill-advised endeavor. I only ask you make the introduction.”
It wasn’t her snide words that captured his attention. It was the way a few silky strands of her hair had escaped her bonnet and curled delightfully down and around her neck. They trailed across the creamy skin above the square neckline of her simple gown. There was something about her flame-licked hair that took his breath away. It was such an unusual shade.
His arousal pressed against his breeches to a seamsplitting degree. He vividly recalled the lilac scent of her skin and their eager couplings, as if they had just come from frolicking in his bed. She came across prim and pinched like a schoolmarm, but once she was extricated from her clothes, she was a wild entity.
Slowly he walked around her, dipping his head now and again to inhale the sweet scent of her, not touching, keeping a modicum of distance between them. He saw her go rigid, yet he sensed she was not entirely immune to him, anger aside.
“I believe I might be more inclined to help if you had on a few less clothes.” He suppressed a smile when her spine stiffened beneath a row of tiny buttons. The curve of it was expertly made for marking a trail for kisses. “I am finding it impossible to concentrate on your plight when my cock is occupied with other thoughts.”
She let out a low sound that was somewhere between exasperation and rage. He watched her hands curl into fists.
“You are the most maddening man.” She turned around to face him fully. Her face was pink and her neck mottled. “Irksome, vexing, and vile. A woman’s life may be in danger, and all you can think about is your baser needs.”
He reached to trace a finger across her stomach. “My baser needs?” He cocked a brow and cupped her hips. She tried to step back, but he held tight and bent to press his mouth against her shoulder. “You cannot tell me your courtesan was your only reason for darkening my door this night. You are as eager to return to my bed as I am eager to have you in it.”
This wasn’t entirely true. His desire for her was tenfold hers at the moment. If he did not get her to bed quickly, and her legs draped around his hips, he was in dire danger of spilling his seed in his breeches.
But Eva had other ideas. She twisted awkwardly and sidestepped, leaving his arms empty. He drew up and watched as she walked a few paces away, her hips swaying enticingly.
“I think, Your Grace, you have long become accustomed to having everything your way.” She shot him a perilous glance over her shoulder, promising him ill will. And yet, there was mischief tugging at her mouth. “But I, too, have difficulty taking orders from others.”
He crossed his arms. “I hadn’t noticed.”
A single lamp marked her passage as Eva crossed to the back of the room and leaned against his desk. “I think, though taking to your bed is clearly pleasurable to a certain degree, that I gain nothing by giving in to your demands.” She reached up to push a cap sleeve off her shoulder, exposing creamy skin.
Nicholas squelched a groan. She saw his game and was playing with him. The question was simply how far she would go to get what she wanted.
“Nothing?” He dipped his head and ran a sidelong gaze down her body. Unlike her previous visit, she’d left off all but a minimum of layers beneath her gown. The cream-colored material flowed down her body to accentuate each curve. He itched to shove his hands up her skirt and explore the silky patch of curls between her legs. “I think your moans and cries indicate otherwise.”
In the candlelight, the color of her cheeks deepened to rosy red. It was the only indication that she remembered their night together as vividly as he. Still, she didn’t waver.
“Have you always been so confident of your skills as a lover, Your Grace?” She shrugged, and the other sleeve dropped off a perfect white shoulder. “Perhaps I was only falsely playing to your immense ego to keep you from taking away my home. Perhaps the pleasure was yours alone.”
The chit did have a pair of steel stones beneath her drawers. She was not the least intimidated by his ducal rank. Her stubbornness and aggravating need to thwart him at every turn now became a challenge. He’d discovered that she made love just as passionately as she fought for her courtesans, for her mother, and for herself. She was unlike any other woman he’d ever known. Everything about her was a whirl of color and a mass of everything contrary.
Each time he thought her captured and bent to his will, she’d slip from his fingertips and thwart him. Not this time.
“There was nothing false about the way your body responded under my tutelage. I know as well as you that you want me.” He grinned wickedly. “I have a few more tricks to teach you, Eva. You must give me a chance to prove your words as lies.”
E
va frowned. There was no denying the attraction between them. Even now her body called to him to take her with passionate fervor. However, she was not about to put off her reason for her visit while he made her lose focus on Yvette’s plight.
va frowned. There was no denying the attraction between them. Even now her body called to him to take her with passionate fervor. However, she was not about to put off her reason for her visit while he made her lose focus on Yvette’s plight.
“If you truly want to give me what I desire, then you will agree to introduce me to your investigator.” She leaned forward under the pretense of smoothing her skirt and watched him through a fringe of hair. His attention dropped to her neckline, where her breasts threatened to spill over frothy lace.
Never had she lowered herself to use her body, her charms to get her way, but her relationship with His Grace was no normal situation. If she had to play off his desire for her to get to the investigator, then so be it. The time to cling to her morals, and her virginity, had passed. He wanted her, and to have her he needed to give her something in return.
She could suffer regrets for her fall from grace once Yvette was safe.
He stared at her for a long moment, his hooded eyes telling her nothing of his thoughts. His linen shirt was open at the neck, and the sleeves were rolled to the elbows to show a fine mist of dark hair on his forearms. His black breeches were sculpted to his thighs and molded to the hard ridge of his erection.
The sight made her mouth go dry, and her body flushed with heat. He was a fine specimen of a man, dark and dangerous. If she were to crawl into the murky water between fighting for her soul and becoming his courtesan in truth, or to turn around and walk away from him forever, she wasn’t sure which she would choose.
“I will make the introduction tomorrow,” he said finally, through harsh breath and gritted teeth.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Eva nodded. She locked into his eyes and walked slowly toward him. His intensity drew her in as she slid into his arms and cupped the side of his face. She touched her tongue to her bottom lip. “Now you must show me those tricks you promised.”
She lifted to her toes, pressed her mouth to his, and tasted brandy on his lips. In an instant, his arms closed around her, cupping her buttocks and crushing her against his erection. Her last bit of reserve—pride, as it were—fled with the brush of her breasts across his chest as he shifted to pull her closer to his hardness.
Eva hated the ease with which she’d become his lover, his courtesan. She hated how much she desired him, too. And as she tangled her tongue with his, she knew she would always feel vulnerable to his seduction.
Though she wanted to believe she’d gone to his bed under force and fear of her future, there wasn’t a requirement in the arrangement that she’d actually find pleasure in his arms.
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