CHAPTER 7
Jordan Holloway emerged from the shadowy side of the house, his eyes fixed on his unruly charge.
Eggleston’s hands fell away from Annie’s arms. He cleared his throat multiple times and moved several paces away from her as quickly as possible.
“Uh, good evening, Lord Ashbourne,” Arthur said. “Thank you very— Good evening!” Arthur nodded toward Jordan, nodded toward Annie, and without meeting their eyes, dashed past both of them back toward the house like a hare scared by a hound.
Laughing softly, Jordan stepped into the moonlit nook.
Annie crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course you would have to pick that precise moment to insert yourself into my affairs again. Proud of yourself?”
“Immensely,” Jordan answered with a nod.
“You are a detestable eavesdropper.”
Jordan cracked a smile. “I take offense to that, actually. I am a very skilled eavesdropper. But I came out here to enjoy a perfectly good cheroot. One that I’ve been forced to snub out since you arrived.”
“You had no right to—”
His hand went up to stop her. “I’m sure Lily and Devon would see things quite differently. No doubt they’d thank me.”
Her cheeks flushed the loveliest shade of pink.
“My sister and Devon don’t understand and, apparently, neither do you. But it is absolutely none of your affair!” She turned her back on him.
“It is my affair, actually. I am your chaperone. Not to mention, if you intend to use me to make Eggleston jealous, then it’s even more my affair.” He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow at her.
She turned an even brighter shade of pink and bit her lip. The tell.
Jordan eyed her. “I’ve done you a great service this evening and this is how you repay me? Outrage and ingratitude?”
Annie’s jaw dropped open. “A great service? Are you mad? How do you think you’ve done me a great service?”
“Trust me. You wouldn’t have wanted to kiss Eggleston.”
Annie squeezed her reticule, and Jordan could only guess she was imagining it was his throat. “Really? How would you know? Have
you
kissed him?”
Jordan shrugged. “It’s just a sense I get about the chap. The way he sits a horse, refuses to drink, mentions his
father
four times in one conversation. To be honest, I’ve been convinced the man isn’t interested in women at all.” Jordan shook his head. “I’m sorry to tell you, none of it bodes well for your marital bed.”
Annie’s cheeks flamed. Her voice shook with outrage. “First of all, you should not have been eavesdropping. It’s unspeakably rude, and second, what would you know about a marital bed? You’re not married!”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she clapped her hand over it. “Oh, good heavens, I want to sink through the grass,” she murmured, pulling her hand away.
Jordan arched a brow. “Guessed, did you, how I might know such a thing?”
She closed her eyes, reopened them slowly, and cleared her throat. “Frances says you’re a rakehell. I assume that’s how you know.”
“A rakehell? Really? I suppose that’s fair.” At the moment, all he could think about was wrapping up this little matter with the unhappy Miss Andrews and making his way to his mistress Nicoletta’s town house.
Annie’s eyes shot dark sparks at him. “Very well. If you’re a rakehell, you must be quite experienced, then.”
Jordan coughed. “Experienced?”
“Yes. At kissing.”
He shook his head. “I’ve had no complaints.”
Annie tapped her slipper on the grass. “Will you kiss me then?”
Jordan’s head snapped up and he gave her a look as if he were convinced she’d lost her mind. “Pardon?”
“Will you kiss me?”
He arched a brow. “Under no circumstances.”
She gave him a smug smile. “Afraid?”
Jordan took two steps toward her and towered over her. “Miss Andrews, you should learn not to play games with vastly superior players.”
Annie stared straight up at him. “Vastly superior? My. My. Arrogant, aren’t we?”
“Merely confident. And I’m not about to play into your little game of trying to make Eggleston jealous, which I assume is the reason for your request.”
She didn’t look away. Impressive.
She glanced about, holding out her hands. “Arthur isn’t here now to see, is he? If you’re heaven’s gift to the fairer sex, why don’t you prove it?”
Oh, now she was challenging his skills. Taunting him. Foolish woman. But doubt flickered in Jordan’s mind. He eyed the appealing Miss Andrews. For some deuced inexplicable reason, he was actually tempted. She was beautiful, she was lively, and she was luring him with her know-it-all attitude. But she was also Devon’s sister-in-law, blast it. Kissing her would be a phenomenally bad idea. Phenomenally bad.
“Given that you’re Devon’s sister-in-law—”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It must not have been you who said you were doing shocking things before I was out of pinafores.”
Jordan narrowed his eyes on her. The smug look on her face made him shake the doubt away. The chit was a bit too sure of herself. She’d only get into more trouble with an attitude like that. She needed to learn a lesson and the sooner the better.
“You do not know what you’re getting yourself into,” he warned.
“Don’t I?” she countered. She’d pulled off one glove and was contemplating her fingernails as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
That did it.
Jordan narrowed his eyes on her. This girl
definitely
needed to be taught a lesson. He remembered a night several months ago when Devon had forced him to ask Annie to dance at the Atkinsons’ house party. He’d done it, all right, and she’d ever so reluctantly agreed, but it’d been clear the entire time that she’d been scouring the ballroom for a glimpse of Arthur Eggleston.
Arthur Eggleston of all people. That little episode had left a bad taste in Jordan’s mouth. The next morning, Annie and Arthur had run off to Gretna Green and Devon had enlisted Jordan’s help in tracking them down.
Jordan was used to the giggling attentions of young ladies and the smooth flirtations of more experienced women. He was a man who was rarely without the company of a beautiful woman and he was accustomed to being the center of attention. Here was this girl with her know-it-all attitude positively mocking him. He wouldn’t stand for it. He’d have Miss Andrews quaking in her tiny little slippers in five seconds flat.
And he knew
just
how to accomplish it.
Sucking in a deep breath through his nostrils, he reached out and softly ran a bare finger along the arch of her jaw. Annie glanced up. A flicker of doubt flashed in her eyes. Good. He’d already shaken her. His thumb glanced against her temple, traced along her cheekbone, and tilted up her chin.
She wet her lips nervously with her adorable little pink tongue. Her dark eyes were wide. Also good.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, allowing his rough cheek to brush her soft one. She smelled like spring flowers and optimism. “You want me to kiss you, Miss Andrews? Really kiss you?”
“Y … yes.” But her breaths were coming in short little gasps and her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings in her pretty throat.
He slid the fingers of one hand under her chin. He ran the fingers of his other down the length of her velvet neck. Then, slowly, so slowly, his mouth descended toward hers. Her eyes squeezed shut at the last second, and Jordan let his lips lightly brush hers.
He only meant to teach her a lesson. Only meant to touch her lips, once, twice, and then he would end it. His point would be made.
But the sweetness of her mouth surprised him. He brushed against her a third time and when her hands came up to snake around his neck and she fitted herself to his full length, that was Jordan’s undoing. He hadn’t expected such passion in the little miss. Hadn’t expected it, but was helpless not to respond to it.
The hand that had been caressing her neck moved down behind her back to tug her tightly against him. When her tongue tentatively touched his, that was it. He turned her in his arms and pushed her up against the side of the house. He braced his hands on either side of her head, his mouth slanted against hers, her lips parted, and his tongue brushed inside. Annie’s entire delectable little body shook. She moaned and Jordan went rock hard. Oh God, how exactly had this happened? He needed to stop. Now. It was insane for him to be kissing Annie on the side of the house. He hadn’t meant for this, hadn’t meant it at all. She was responding to him like a wanton, and oh God, he liked it.
He liked it too much.
* * *
Lord Ashbourne pulled his mouth away from hers, and her hands fell away from his neck. Annie’s eyes fluttered open. She trembled. Did she imagine it or was his breathing ragged too? She couldn’t look at him. Could only stare at the shadowy ground while she pressed her hand against her stomach, willing the butterflies to stop flying and for her breathing to return to normal.
She braced a hand against the cold stone wall to right herself. What in God’s name had that been?
A kiss. Yes, but so much more. She’d never experienced anything like it.
Without saying a word, Lord Ashbourne turned on his heel and stalked back inside the house. Thank goodness he hadn’t made a mocking comment. She couldn’t have stood it.
Annie counted to ten and willed her breathing back to normal. Lord Ashbourne had been right, she admitted to herself with a wry smile. She
had
been playing a game with a vastly superior player. What had she been thinking to taunt him like that in the first place? She just couldn’t stand his smugness. How he ordered her about, told her whom she could and could not dance with, pretended to know everything about rakishness and kissing. It was all too much. She had meant to call his bluff. Only now that he’d gone and kissed her, she was quite convinced Lord Ashbourne
did,
in fact, know everything about rakishness and kissing.
She bit her lip, watching his retreating form against the light shining from the house.
She knew instinctively. That kiss had been dangerous. And even more dangerous, she would be forced to be in his company for the next three weeks.
CHAPTER 8
The ride home from the Lindworths’ ball was, in a word, awkward. With Aunt Clarissa propped unceremoniously (and drunkenly) in the corner of the coach, Annie smoothed her skirts, cleared her throat from time to time, and stared out the window of Lord Ashbourne’s fine coach. She chewed her bottom lip, opened and closed her reticule for no reason whatsoever, and generally did whatever she could to forget the kiss she’d shared with the smolderingly handsome man who sat across from her.
And it certainly didn’t help matters that she was seeing him in a different light now. Confound it all. He was
extremely
handsome. Startlingly so at a close range, like sitting here across from him in his own well-appointed coach. And Frances had been right about his eyes. Those mesmerizing gray eyes. They were startling, amazing. They seemed to pull you into their depths and lose you in their silver pools.
Men like him had always intimidated Annie. He ran with a fast set populated with other perfect, beautiful people who amused themselves with wicked pursuits and scandalous affairs. Annie wanted no part of that life. She wanted one man. Just one man who would love her forever, give her his children, and stay by her side no matter what gorgeous temptation might entice him. She wanted a man who was steadfast and true. Not a handsome rake like Jordan Holloway.
She asked herself for the hundredth time what madness had prompted her to ask him to kiss her? She’d never been one for being bullied, and his eavesdropping and running Arthur off had incensed her. Lord Ashbourne thought he could do whatever he wanted with no impunity. His smug boldness had infuriated her.
He was so used to being adored by women, she’d meant to throw his kiss in his face and mock him. Knock him from his pedestal. Instead, she’d been kissed by a man who obviously knew exactly what he was doing. So much so that she’d felt it to the very tips of her toes. If he could kiss her like that, what else…? She shook her head. Very well. No more kisses with Lord Ashbourne. Point taken.
She glanced over at him and quickly looked away. He was cloaked in shadow. A particularly deep dark one crossed his face, obscuring his expression. She had the uncanny feeling that he was studying her, but she steadfastly avoided looking back at him. Instead she kept her gaze pinned out the window. But she couldn’t remember even one landmark they’d passed.
Thank goodness it would be over soon. Just three more weeks before Lily and Devon returned. Why did she have the feeling they would be the longest three weeks of her life?
Her mind drifted uneasily to Arthur. Her chest ached. Why hadn’t Arthur asked her to dance? Yes, Lord Ashbourne had apparently warned him not to, but still. If he’d really wanted to, wouldn’t he have asked her regardless? Tears gathered in the backs of her eyes. She shook her head and glanced at Lord Ashbourne. He gave her a knowing look, one with a trace of pity. She wanted to hate him for it.
And what would Arthur think if he knew she’d kissed Lord Ashbourne in the garden? The same garden she’d been standing in with him only moments earlier? The same garden where she’d asked
him
to kiss her? She winced. Bad form. But she’d only been trying to prove a point to Lord Ashbourne for being such a know-it-all, so arrogant, so … now she had absolutely no idea what point she’d been trying to make. How and when did things become so confusing?
The truth was, she’d really only asked him to kiss her because she didn’t think he’d do it. Frances said he was a rakehell, and apparently, a rakehell would kiss anyone. The fact that he’d kissed her just proved it. She’d managed to learn one thing at least. Rakehells did know how to kiss. Yes, they did. It had been an idiotic request, she realized now, but it was too late for recriminations. Besides, Annie didn’t believe in recriminations. Recriminations had kept her sister from happiness for five years and had nearly turned Lily into a widowed spinster. Yes, if such a thing
could
exist, Lily would have been one. Recriminations were for people who didn’t follow their hearts, and Annie would
never
make that mistake.