Authors: Valerie Bowman
Annie cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t quite given up on Charlie yet.”
Annie eyed her carefully. “Frances, what are you thinking?”
“What I haven’t told you yet is that Charlie asked to kiss me tonight.” She gave her friend a sly smile.
“He did not!” Annie’s mouth dropped open.
“Yes, he did. And honestly, I was quite confused by it before, but now, now that I know…” Frances’s voice trailed off and she pressed her fingers against her lips, a hundred ideas swirling through her mind. Oh, the possibilities.
“What are you thinking?” Annie repeated.
Frances grinned at her. “Hmm. Let’s put it this way. Charlie is currently under the impression that
I
am under the impression that he is—ahem—light in the instep, is he not?”
Annie nodded. “Yes, he is, but surely he’ll tell you the truth as soon as he sees you next.”
“Oh, I’ve little doubt.” Frances nudged her friend with her elbow. “But not before I have a bit of fun with him.”
CHAPTER 23
Charlie spent the entire next day attempting to get Frances alone to explain the truth to her. He had no real idea how he’d broach the topic once he got the chance, but he intended to be blunt and quick about it. The sooner she discovered he did indeed prefer women—her, actually—the better. It was suddenly of utmost importance for her to know.
But every time he so much as broached the topic of speaking with her, she made an excuse about helping Annie and Lily with the wedding preparations and nearly ran from him. He couldn’t blame her. She was obviously still uncomfortable after his deplorable behavior last night. And she was here, staying with Annie, to help her friend. It was exceedingly rude of him to try to take any more of her time. But try he did, in between bouts of drinking to his brother’s impending nuptials in the study. The wedding was in a matter of days, and Charlie intended to stay by his brother’s side through it. As a result, by the end of the evening, Charlie had had a bit too much too drink.
The ladies retired soon after dinner, and it was that bit too much that convinced Charlie it was a good idea to sneak up to Frances’s room and tell her the truth. The ladies would be leaving the day after tomorrow for Ashbourne Manor for the final wedding preparations, and Charlie wouldn’t see Frances again until the wedding.
He downed the last of his brandy, excused himself from the two other men in the study, and took the stairs up to the bedchambers two at a time. He rapped only once upon the door before it swung wide, and he stalked into Frances’s bedchamber.
* * *
Frances and Annie had carefully orchestrated their retirement from the dining room tonight. Claiming exhaustion, both women had gone straight up to bed. Charlie well knew they were leaving for Ashbourne Manor soon. He’d been attempting to get Frances alone all day, and she’d successfully eluded him. She’d been half afraid he’d just out with it in the middle of the drawing room full of mixed company and declare himself partial to women right then and there. Thankfully she’d managed to avoid him, and now she’d left him little choice but to come up to her room and confront her.
Right on time
, she thought when the knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” she called and the door swung wide. Charlie stalked toward her, thrilling her a little.
Indecent to have this man in her bedchamber? Absolutely.
Welcome? Oh, yes.
“Charlie, I—”
“Wait. You must listen to me.”
The look of determination in his dark eyes made Frances doubt her course for a moment, but she quickly rallied her confidence. “No. You must listen to me first,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster.
Charlie snapped his mouth shut. He was obviously impatient to speak, but she’d insisted, and he was a gentleman.
“First, be a dear and help me with this.” She turned her back to him and presented the buttons of her gown.
“Wait. What?” His voice shook a bit.
“Unbutton me, please?” She was thankful she was turned away from him so he couldn’t see the look of pure glee that was surely pinned to her face, although she was also a bit disappointed that she couldn’t see the shocked expression on his.
“I can’t—”
Frances gave a showy sigh and tapped her foot impatiently. “I won’t argue that it’s not exactly proper for you to be in my bedchamber, Charlie, but you’ve come here, and I can’t very well call Mary to help me while you’re here, and my stays are pinching me something awful tonight.”
Charlie’s voice faltered. “But I—”
She still didn’t turn to face him but secretly smiled to herself. “Besides,” she added for good measure, “let’s not pretend. We both know this is hardly tempting to you, is it, Charlie?”
She could nearly hear his brain working. He was thinking, all right. Thinking about his options. He could either tell her immediately what he’d come here to say, in which case undressing her was out of the question, or he could play along with her little game and perhaps get an eyeful. A gentleman would tell the truth immediately. But an aroused, tempted gentleman? What would he do? She smiled to herself. She was about to find out.
Her answer came when Charlie’s warm, deft fingers began unbuttoning the back of her gown.
CHAPTER 24
Charlie tried to keep his hand from shaking as he slipped the satin-covered buttons through the loops on the back of Frances’s gown. He leaned in closer and breathed in the sweet honeysuckle scent of her hair. He shouldn’t be doing this. He’d come here to tell her the truth and instead he was undressing her. She believed he was completely uninterested in women; that’s why she was allowing this, as scandalous as it seemed, but something wicked inside him had been unable to resist the offer.
The last button came free and the gown fell away. Frances pushed it down over her hips and stood before him in her stays. She turned to face him, her spectacles gone, highlighting the pretty softness of her face. She looked different, but breathtakingly lovely just the same.
Then his gaze moved down.
The stays pushed up her breasts in a way that made him swallow. Hard. She had on her chemise, the barest wisp of fabric underneath the stays, but otherwise, she was completely naked.
“Care to help me with my stays?”
Now that was egregious. He couldn’t allow this to continue. Could he? “Frances, I don’t think—”
“I could always call Mary,” she replied. “She does have a bad memory, but it seems to me she might remember me half undressed with a man in my bedchamber. But if I call her you won’t get a chance to tell me whatever it is you came to say.”
Charlie closed his eyes. And swallowed. He was going straight to hell but could not refuse the offer. She was right. He still needed to tell her what he’d come here to say. What was that again?
He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Very well.”
She spun around, offering the laces of her stays to his fingers, and Charlie bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning. He tried to concentrate on the task, but her smooth porcelain skin and the scent of her, the little sighs she was making in the back of her throat as each lace pulled away, were his undoing.
When the stays came free, she shimmied them down her body and stepped deftly away from them. She turned, giving him a half-smile. The gossamer of her chemise glimmered in the light from the two candles that rested on either side of her bed. The shift was nearly transparent. The dusky pink of her nipples were outlined in silhouette against the candlelight. Charlie wiped his hand across his forehead again. “Frances,” he breathed.
She looked so beguiling and so innocent at the same time. “Yes, Charlie.” She stood only a pace away from him. His fingers ached to touch her, rip the chemise from her silken limbs, and—
“What is it you wanted to tell me?” she asked.
He took a deep breath. There was every chance she would scream and order him from her bedchamber the minute he revealed this particular secret, but despite the growing size of his cock, it was time.
“Frances, I—
He had the grace to look away. He kept his gaze focused on the thick carpet that rested under the bed.
“Yes, Charlie?”
“I came to tell you that I…” He couldn’t drag the words across his dry lips.
“Perhaps I should tell you something first,” she offered.
He nodded, clenching his jaw against the unholy throbbing in his trousers. “Very well.”
She took one step toward him. One small step. She reached up and traced his brow with a tapered fingernail. Sweat dripped from his brow.
“I have to admit something to you, Charlie. Something I’m not quite proud of.”
He nodded. “Go on.”
She splayed her hands against his chest, and he nearly groaned. Then she moved her hands up until they wrapped around his neck. What was she doing to him? His body shook from lust.
She pushed the sleeves of his evening coat over his shoulders. He helped her by shrugging it off and the jacket fell to the floor behind him. What in God’s name was happening?
She plucked at the tie to his cravat and began slowly unwinding it. When that garment also lay on the floor, she stood on tiptoes and whispered up into his ear. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you asking me to kiss you at the engagement party.”
Charlie closed his eyes. When and why had he ever got the impression that Frances was a scholarly little wallflower? Sweet Jesus this woman could tempt a saint.
“You want me to kiss you?” he asked on a groan.
She put a finger to the side of her mouth, sucking on it lightly, making Charlie want to come so hard he clenched his fist in agony. “Um hmm,” she answered. “If you can stand it.”
A slow smile spread across his face. He looked down into her bright blue eyes. “You know, don’t you?”
Her answering grin told him what he’d suspected was true.
“I know,” she answered, just before he tugged her into his arms and kissed her.
* * *
Charlie’s lips touched Frances’s, hungry, urgent. This was no simple kiss in the corner of a library where someone might walk in on them at any moment. No. This was a half-dressed-in-a-bedchamber-with-every-expectation-of-privacy kiss. His hot, wet mouth slanted across hers and he pulled her half-clad body up against him, hard. The fiery length of him pressed against her through the fabric of his trousers. She was still on tiptoes with her arms wrapped around his neck, and she never wanted the kiss to end.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her the few paces over to the bed. “Frances,” he whispered against her mouth. “Let me touch you.”
She replied with one word. “Yes.”
His entire body shook at that answer, and he set her lovingly on the bed before turning to shuck his boots. He was still wearing his trousers and his shirttails but nothing else.
He moved atop her, his mouth coming down to meet hers again and the welcome heat and weight of his body made Frances shudder. He fit so perfectly between her legs, the part of him that was hungry for her nudging at her most private spot.
She whimpered. “Charlie, touch me.”
He didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to. His mouth moved from her lips to her cheek, her ear, her neck, and then he moved down. Pulling the chemise away from her shoulder, he bared one of her breasts. She raised up on an elbow, gasping, just before his mouth covered her nipple. She fell back against the bed and he followed.
Frances had never felt such white hot desire in her entire life. Charlie’s firm mouth worked against her breast, sucking, pulling, tugging, driving her mad. Her breath came in fitful gasps, and she pushed her fingers through his short dark hair, holding his head to her breast, never wanting him to stop.
His other hand found her other nipple and flicked back and forth, pinching, teasing, tormenting until she forgot to breathe. Oh God, how did this man know how to touch her body like this? It left her hot and aching. His lips found her mouth again, and this time the kiss exploded, hot and wet, filled with desire. She dragged her fingers through his hair and whispered his name into his ear.
* * *
Charlie’s cock was about to explode. He hadn’t been so damned aroused since he’d been a lad of fifteen. What the hell was happening to him? Touching Frances’s soft warm body, letting her perfect breasts fill his hand and his mouth, it was the most ungodly torture he’d ever known. His hips were pushing against hers in an unconscious rhythm that he desperately wanted to repeat without his trousers, and her little groans and whimpers were driving him beyond the edge of sanity.
He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t make love to her. He repeated those words over and over in his desire-starved brain. But even as he knew it could only go so far, he also couldn’t drag his hands away from her luscious body. And it was indeed luscious. Beneath her innocent gowns, Frances had been hiding the body of a siren. He ran his hand up her smooth-as-silk leg, past the hem of her chemise. She gasped. He paused. He’d die before he did anything that she didn’t want. “We can stop—”
“No,” she whispered in a seductive voice against his lips. “Don’t stop.”
That’s all he needed to hear. Charlie let his hand slide up higher, higher until it rested on her smooth, bare hip. He shuddered then. Uncontrollably. God, he was about to come in his trousers. Such bad form. But he wanted her so badly, more badly than he’d ever wanted any woman.
“Touch me, Charlie,” she whispered again.
He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. Touching her might drive him mad, but he wasn’t about to refuse.
His fingers moved from her hip, closer, closer to the junction between her thighs. The heat of her radiated against his hand and his fingers trembled as he moved closer to her wet warmth.
She spread her legs then, and that was his undoing. Charlie moved his hand down to rest against her inner thigh. She gasped against his mouth. “Touch me,” she begged.
Charlie clenched his jaw. He could do this. Give her pleasure without taking his own. He
could
do this and he would. He braced his opposite elbow against the mattress and slowly dragged his finger between her legs. Frances shook as his finger moved into the cleft of her sex. He stroked there, once, twice, and her legs fell wider apart. She opened herself to him. Charlie clenched his jaw. He circled his finger around the opening to her body. When he dipped the one finger inside, slowly, her hips bucked and she cried out.