Authors: Amanda Quick
“We flew a kite in the park,” Ethan said. “It was great fun.”
“Do you want a nice, cold ice, Aunt Olympia?” Hugh asked ingenuously. “I expect that it would taste ever so good on such a warm day.”
“An ice?” Olympia smiled at Hugh, momentarily distracted. “Yes, that sounds delightful. It was quite warm in the lecture rooms.”
Everyone looked at Jared.
“I can see that there is a consensus here,” Jared said. He raised the trap in the carriage roof and gave the coachman orders to take them to the nearest respectable shop that sold ices.
“I am so excited by what I have learned today,” Olympia said to him as he reseated himself. “I cannot wait to get on with my study of the diary.”
“Indeed,” Jared muttered with a carefully cultivated air of polite boredom.
The bloody diary could rot, he thought. What he
really wanted to know was how much Olympia liked her newfound friends.
Jared did not get the full tale until much later that evening, primarily because Ethan, Hugh, and Robert could not stop talking about their adventures in London.
That did not bother Jared. There would be time enough to hear all the particulars after Mrs. Bird had retired to her quarters and the boys were in bed.
The fierce torment of these late evenings spent closeted alone with Olympia was equalled only by the anticipation of how they would ultimately conclude. He did not think that Olympia could resist the glittering sensual tension that crackled between them for much longer. He knew that he certainly could not.
When the household had quieted down for the night, Jared shut Minotaur in the kitchen and went in search of Olympia. He knew precisely where to find her in the small house.
She looked up from the Lightbourne diary when he walked into the study. Her eyes were very bright and her smile was filled with a warmth that made Jared’s blood run hot. The thought that he could have gone his whole life without ever experiencing this powerful emotion was enough to send a chill down his spine.
“There you are, Mr. Chillhurst.” Olympia marked her place in the diary with a small strip of decorated leather. “I see we have peace and quiet at last. I honestly do not know how we got along without you.”
“The problem was that your household lacked an orderly routine, Miss Wingfield.” Jared walked over to the table that held the brandy decanter. He picked up the bottle and poured two glasses. “Now that such a
routine has been established, everything is under control.”
“Do not underestimate your contribution, sir,” she said as he carried the brandy glasses to her desk. “You have done much more than merely establish a routine.” She looked up at him with glowing admiration as she accepted one of the glasses.
“I try to earn my salary.” Jared took a sip of the brandy and wondered if he would drown in her lagoon-colored eyes. “What did you learn today that got you so enthused?”
Olympia looked briefly disconcerted, as if her thoughts had gone in another direction entirely for a moment. She recovered immediately. “I know that you are not particularly interested in my study of the Lightbourne diary, sir.”
“Mmm.” Jared kept his voice noncommittal.
“I told you that I needed to consult some new maps.”
“So you said.”
“Well, I now have access to such sources.” Excitement lit Olympia’s eyes. “Not only does the society maintain an excellent library with a very large collection of maps, but certain members of the society have offered to let me view their personal collections.”
Just what he had feared. Jared recalled the two men who had been hovering over Olympia outside the Musgrave Institution. “Which members?”
“Mr. Torbert and Lord Aldridge. Apparently their personal libraries contain many charts that deal with the West Indies.”
“Have you told them about your quest?” Jared asked warily.
“No, of course not. I merely told them that I was very interested in the geography of the islands.”
Jared frowned. “I suppose they know that you are a student of legends.”
“Yes, but there is no reason why they should think I was searching for the treasure mentioned in the Lightbourne diary,” Olympia assured him. “I have told no one about my interest in that particular legend.”
“I see.”
“Mr. Chillhurst, I know that this topic bores you and as it happens, I wish to discuss something else tonight.”
“What is that, Miss Wingfield?”
“It is difficult to put into words.” Olympia got to her feet and walked around the edge of her desk. She went to stand near the globe. “I fear you will think me overbold. And, indeed, you will be correct in that assumption.”
Jared felt his lower body tighten in anticipation. “I could never think you overbold, Miss Wingfield.”
Olympia put her fingertips on the globe and slowly began to rotate it. “First, I wish to thank you for making it possible for me to pursue my studies of the Lightbourne diary.”
“I had little to do with that.”
“That is not true. If you had not seen to the disposal of that last shipment of goods from my uncle, I would never have been able to afford this visit to London. And if you had not dealt with Squire Pettigrew, I would have been forced to abandon my studies in favor of whisking my nephews out of his reach. Regardless of how you look at it, we are here in town and I am free to do my research because of you.”
“I trust you will find what you are searching for here in London.”
Olympia spun the globe a little faster. “Even if I do not find the treasure mentioned in the diary, I shall not
complain, sir. I have already found more than I had ever dreamed of finding because of you.”
Jared went very still. “Have you?”
“Yes.” She did not look at him. Her attention remained fixed on the spinning globe; “Sir, you are a man of the world. You have traveled widely and viewed strange customs firsthand.”
“I have some experience of the world, yes.”
Olympia cleared her throat with a small, discreet cough. “As I have often explained, I, too, am a woman of the world, sir.”
Jared slowly set down the brandy glass. “Miss Wingfield, what are you trying to say?”
She looked up from the rotating globe. Her eyes were brilliant with desire. “As a woman of the world, sir, I would like to ask you a question which I wish you would answer as a man of the world.”
“I will make every attempt to do so,” Jared said.
“Mr. Chillhurst.” Olympia’s voice cracked slightly. She broke off and tried again. “You have given me some reason to believe that you might consider involving yourself in a romantic liaison with me while you are engaged as a tutor in this household. Am I mistaken?”
Jared felt the last, ragged remnants of his self-control turn to ash in the roaring flames of passion. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the desk on either side of himself.
“No, Olympia, you are not mistaken. I would be quite willing to consider such a liaison provided that you cease addressing me as Mr. Chillhurst.”
“Jared.”
She whirled away from the madly spinning globe and flew across the room, straight into his arms.
“I was so afraid you would think me overbold,” Olympia confided into Jared’s shirtfront. She was dazed with a combination of joyous relief and the glorious excitement that always consumed her when she was in Jared’s arms. “I know you are a perfect gentleman and I feared my question might offend you.”
Jared kissed the top of her head. “My sweet siren. I am not a perfect gentleman.”
“Yes, you are.” She lifted her head and gave him a tremulous smile. “At least you make every effort. It’s not your fault that there is a vein of excessive passion within you. I realize that I am quite deliberately
provoking that element in your nature. It is no doubt very wrong of me to do so.”
“No, Olympia.” Jared framed her face with his hands. His gaze glittered with fierce certainty. “I do not think there is anything wrong with this emotion and even if there is, I do not particularly care.”
“I am so glad you feel that way. I was almost certain you did.” Olympia was aware of the hard, strong muscles of his thighs as she leaned against him. “You and I are very much alike, are we not? Our experience and study of other lands and peoples has given us a broad view of human nature.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh, yes. Men and women of the world such as ourselves need not be bound by Society’s conventions.”
Jared cupped her face and looked down into her eyes. “You cannot know the effect you have on me.”
“I hope it is similar to the effect you have on me,” she whispered.
“I suspect it is a thousand times greater.” Jared’s mouth hovered barely an inch above hers. “If you were feeling what I am feeling, you would be consumed by flames.”
“I am consumed by flames.”
Jared muttered something soft, hoarse, and rough with emotion. Olympia could not make out the words but there was no need. His mouth was suddenly on hers and she knew precisely what he was trying to say. Jared desired her tonight with a passion that seared her soul, a passion that equalled her own.
With a tumultuous sense of happiness Olympia gave herself up to Jared’s kiss. She pressed herself closer, seeking the heat and the strength in him. She was dimly aware of him leaning back against the edge of the desk and widening his stance so that she was gently trapped between his muscled thighs.
“So soft.” Jared laced his hands through Olympia’s hair, tearing it free of its precarious moorings. He took great fistfuls of the stuff and clenched and unclenched his fingers in it. “So exquisitely soft.”
Out of the corner of her half-closed eyes Olympia saw her little white lace cap float softly to the carpet. The sight of it filled her with an extraordinary sense of abandon.
“Oh, Jared, this is beyond anything,” she exclaimed, enthralled with the emotions that were cascading through her.
“Yes, my sweet siren.” Jared’s voice had darkened and roughened with passion. “Beyond anything.”
He launched a trail of scorching kisses down her throat, forcing Olympia’s head back over his arm. When he found his path blocked by the prim, pleated frill of her chemisette, he swore impatiently.
“I cannot bear this torture much longer.” Jared tugged quickly at the tapes of her gown. “If I do not have you very soon, my lovely Olympia, I shall no doubt wind up in Bedlam, a broken man.”
“I understand.” Olympia began to unfasten his shirt. “I, too, feel as if I shall be driven mad by this powerful emotion.”
Jared gave her an odd smile as he lowered the bodice of her gown to her waist. “Then we have no choice, do we? We must save each other from insanity tonight.”
Olympia got his shirt open and gazed, entranced, at the sight of his bare chest. She shook her head slightly. “I am not certain that we can save ourselves. Perhaps we are already lost, Jared.”
“Then so be it.” Jared untied the strings of the cambric chemisette and let the garment fall to the carpet alongside the white lace cap. He went very still as he looked down at her breasts.
Olympia blushed under his heated gaze but she
made no attempt to cover herself. Indeed, the knowledge that he wanted her so intensely only served to make her bolder. She splayed her fingers against his hard chest and then lifted her hands to his shoulders.
Jared inhaled deeply and let out his breath in a low groan. He lowered his head to kiss the high, taut crowns of her breasts as she traced the contours of his back.
“I like that very much.” Jared closed his good eye and drew her closer until her breasts were crushed against him.
“Do you?” Olympia stroked him. “I like it, too. You feel so wonderful, Jared.”
“My God, Olympia.”
As if driven by some force he could no longer defend against, Jared moved. His hands wrapped around Olympia’s waist. He lifted her, turned, and seated her on the edge of the desk. Olympia’s skirts fluttered delicately.
“Jared?” Surprised to find herself sitting on the desk, Olympia raised questioning eyes to Jared’s face.
“Sing your sweet song to me, my lovely siren.” Jared pushed Olympia’s gown up above her knees. He parted her legs with his hands and stepped between her thighs. “I want to be lured to my doom.”
“Jared.”
Olympia was still adjusting to the very strange sensation of having him standing between her legs when Jared put his hands on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She clutched his arms and stared at him, not certain how to react.
“Never fear, my beautiful siren.” Jared kissed the curve of her shoulder. “You will tell me when you are ready.”
Before Olympia could ask him what he meant by that, his hands skimmed along the inside of her leg all
the way to the soft, hot vulnerable part of her that had suddenly been opened to him.
Olympia stopped breathing when she felt him touch the unguarded core of her body. An excruciating sense of urgency radiated outward from the place where his fingers connected with her womanly flesh.
“You are already wet,” Jared said. “As warm and soft as southern seas.” He withdrew his fingers and touched them to his lips. His smile was slow and deeply sensual. “You even taste of the sea.”
“Do I?” Olympia gripped his upper arms and held on for dear life. She wished very badly that she knew what to do next but she was lost.
“Yes. Exciting. A little salty. Incredible.”
Jared put his hand back between her legs and carefully eased one finger into her.
Olympia shuddered. “Jared. I do not know what to say.”
“You need say nothing at all, my sweet siren, until you are ready to sing for me.”
She did not know what he meant but she did not have the strength or presence of mind to ask for clarification. The feel of his finger inside her was so wondrous and strange that Olympia could not stop trembling in reaction. Her legs tightened instinctively around him.
“Come. Sing for me, my beautiful siren.” Jared drew his finger slowly back out of her, watching her face as she moaned softly. “Yes, just like that. Again, my lovely one.”
He touched her with the tip of his thumb and Olympia shivered and gave a soft, whimpered moan.