The Christmas Heiress (24 page)

Surprise flashed across his face. He hesitated,
glancing at the clock on her fireplace mantle. "For
a few hours. But I must leave before the household
awakens."

"Of course."

Charlotte watched him closely as he quickly shed
his clothes, then climbed on the bed to lie by her
side. She waited breathless for him to turn and take
her in his arms, but the minutes slowly ticked by
and he never moved.

Perhaps he needed a little encouragement?
Charlotte shifted to her side and moved closer to
him, hoping he would take the hint. "Are you going
to kiss me?" she finally asked.

He leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on her
cheek. "Good night, dearest. Sleep well."

That was all? In a huff, Charlotte sat up, leaned
back against the headboard and stared straight
ahead. "I am not your maiden aunt, Edward, so
please refrain from kissing me as though I were
some distant relation."

Slowly, he sat up. The sheet slid down to his waist,
baring his naked chest. Charlotte's hand itched to
reach out and caress it, to feel the warmth, to glide
her fingers through the springy hair, to press her
palm against the taut muscle.

Edward raised one hand to touch her face,
spreading his palm across her cheek, his fingertips
reaching into the hair at her temples. "One kiss will
lead to two and then three and then I shall have
you flat on your back with your legs spread in no
time at all."

Charlotte wiggled delightfully, his words sending
a warm rush between her upper thighs. "That
sounds marvelous," she purred, giving in to temptation and touching his chest.

"'Tis too soon," he snapped.

Her hand stilled, and she felt the hint of a blush
fill her cheeks. "I did not realize you would need so
much time to recover your strength," she said, lowering her gaze to cover her embarrassment and
disappointment.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh.
"That is hardly the problem, Charlotte." He picked
up her hand, pressed a quick kiss to her wrist, then
placed it boldly over his erection. His stiff penis
throbbed within the softness of her hand.

"How wonderful," she murmured.

Charlotte pushed herself forward into his embrace, flattening her breasts against his muscular
chest. His body was warm and strong, his growing
arousal nudging against her stomach. The rhythm
of her heart pounded restlessly in her chest as she
kissed her way up from his chest to his throat.

"Charlotte." His voice was husky with warning.
"You really must listen to me."

"Why?" she asked, reaching his chin and urging
his mouth to hers. If she was kissing him, he could
hardly argue with her, now could he?

She sought his mouth with another hungry kiss.
He resisted for a mere instant, then rolled on top
of her. Charlotte's legs opened instinctively. She set
her feet flat against the mattress and tilted up her
hips. Edward's eyes widened and he clasped her
hands in his, pushed them high above her head,
then leaned down to kiss her.

She arched her back, weaving her fingers through
his. Her breath came in short bursts as his lips traveled from her mouth to her throat. He took a nipple
in his mouth, suckling and teasing his tongue over it.

The same amazing sensations she had delighted
in a few short hours ago trembled through her
entire being and she heard her voice cry out in
pleasure in the quiet bedchamber.

Abruptly, Edward pulled himself back, dragging
in his breath roughly. "This is madness."

She clutched at his wrists to keep him close.
Their eyes met and Charlotte reached for his hands
and held them, one in each of her own. He glanced
down at her breasts briefly, then returned his gaze
to her eyes.

"Being with you like this makes me very happy,
Edward. Does it not please you also?"

"It pleases me greatly." His eyes glimmered and
she felt their heat. For a time he watched her
silently. "'Tis against my better judgement, but I
know you like to get your own way too much to be
denied. But I want your word that I will hear no
complaints from you tomorrow about soreness and
aches and pains."

She shivered with delight and wicked anticipation, then shot him a coy look.

"There will be no complaints from me, my lord,
as long as you pleasure me utterly," she said saucily.

"I've created a monster," he groaned.

"Aye." A teasing glint flashed in her eye. "And 'tis
past time that you did."

"Are you awake, Miss Charlotte?"

Charlotte slowly opened her eyes, expecting to
see the first hint of daylight creeping into the room.
Instead, the chamber was awash in bright winter
sunlight, and her maid was staring down at her with
a furrowed, concerned line between her brows.

"Good morning, Jones." Charlotte smiled weakly.
"Is it very late?"

"Nearly noon," the maid replied. "You never stay
abed so long. Are you feeling poorly?"

"No, I'm fine," Charlotte answered.

To illustrate the point, she moved to sit up. As
she did, the sheet and coverlet slipped to her waist,
revealing her lack of nightclothes. Jones stared at
her in shock, then hastily turned away.

Flaming with mortification, Charlotte snatched
up the sheet with a gasp. It had felt so wonderful,
so natural to be this way with Edward last night, but
the feeling did not linger in the bright reality of
daylight.

`Bring me my blue wrapper," Charlotte commanded, sittiiig up carefully, making certain to keep the blankets
over her breasts and beneath her arms. She slipped
on the robe, thankful there were no visible tears in the
silk fabric, then went to the wardrobe to select her
morning outfit.

"I cannot find your nightgown, Miss Charlotte,
and I'd like to clean it. I'm sure I'll be able to make
it presentable again. Vinegar and salt can do wonders with a stubborn stain."

Charlotte turned and saw Jones holding the
porcelain washstand bowl containing the dirty
water from last night. She felt her face flush. Obviously, the maid had seen the bloodstains in the
water and assumed her monthlies had come on
during the night. She further assumed Charlotte
had soiled her nightgown, which would explain
why she wasn't wearing it.

Thankfully, Jones did not realize Charlotte was
completely naked. She no doubt thought Charlotte
was wearing underdrawers.

"Never mind about the nightgown," Charlotte
said hastily, deciding it was past time to change the
subject. "What I really need is a hot bath. Can you
arrange for one, please?"

The maid eyed her oddly, but did as she was asked.
Within the hour Charlotte was reclining in a copper
slipper tub that had been set near the fire, her head
leaning back against the rim, one leg dangling carelessly over the side.

The hot water felt wonderful on her sore muscles
and tender flesh. Steam rose like a London fog
from the bath water, condensing on her upswept
hair, engulfing her body in its luxurious warmth.

"Shall I wash your hair, Miss Charlotte?"

"No, thank you, Jones. I can attend myself. I'll
ring when I need you."

The maid sank in a hasty curtsey and left, though
her expression remained mystified. But Charlotte had
too much on her mind to worry about her maid's
reaction to her very strange behavior.

Relishing her time alone, Charlotte lay back and
wiggled her toes, spreading little ripples through
the water. The door slammed open and Charlotte
sighed with annoyance. She turned her head to
once again dismiss her maid.

But it was not Jones who had entered her bedchamber.

"My God, Edward, what are you doing in here?"
Charlotte levered herself upward, causing water to
slosh over the edge. Realizing she was giving the
earl an eyeful, she dropped back down into the
warm water, crossing her arms across her chest.
"This is outrageous."

He gave her a measured stare. "I wanted to see
you, Charlotte."

"Well, you cannot! For pity's sake, I am in the
bathtub!" she hissed.

"I can see that." He smiled oh, so sweetly. "I do
not mind."

"Well, I do." Charlotte could feel the anger growing in her, spurred on no doubt by the nonchalance of his voice.

He came closer to the bath and stood, looking
down at her with hungry eyes. "You are so lovely. All
dewy and pink, like a delicate rosebud on the verge
of blooming." He touched her bare shoulder, then
let his fingers slide down until they reached the water.

Charlotte felt herself turn crimson. Drawing her knees beneath her chin, she tried to shield herself
from his hot gaze. "You must leave at once! If
anyone caught you in here-" Charlotte shivered
violently, unable to voice the rest of that thought.

The earl ignored her near-hysteria, rested his
hands on the edge of the tub and leaned down,
kissing her on the mouth. "Forgive my bold intrusion. I missed you at breakfast this morning and
became worried as the hour grew late and you did
not appear."

Charlotte was feeling too mortified to be charmed,
even though his kiss had put all her senses on alert.
"You could have sent me a note," she chided.

He extracted a soft white handkerchief from his
jacket pocket and blotted her damp cheeks. "A
note is so impersonal."

Kneeling beside the tub, he moved to dip the
linen square in the water. She swatted his hand
away reflexively. "Stop it. You are not going to bathe
me. Now leave immediately!"

His heated gaze studied her face, his expression
intent. "It could be a very pleasant experience for
both of us. I confess, I have always had a secret
desire to be a lady's maid."

Charlotte scowled. "If you leave immediately, I
promise to keep your ridiculous secret desire to
myself," she said through clenched teeth.

Edward laughed. "Calm down, Charlotte. No one
knows I am here."

"My maid will be returning shortly."

"Your maid is being kept busy below stairs by my
valet. "

He had leaned forward as he spoke and now his
handsome face was very near. She blinked as she saw how close he was, his mouth nearly touching
hers, making her remember vividly the wonderful
excitement of feeling his lips pressed against hers.

Her fingers itched to trace the bold edge of his
nose, the strong line of his jaw, the sensual curve of
his lips. Charlotte clenched her hands into fists and
struggled for the strength to pull herself away and
again order him from the chamber.

"Edward? "

Her voice was a plea, a question that she did not
even know she was asking. Was she begging for a
kiss? Or begging for him to show her mercy and
be strong for the both of them?

She felt his hand close over the nape of her exposed neck, massaging the stiff tendons with a firm,
yet gentle touch. The motion relaxed her. Charlotte
felt her breathing turn deep and even as the tension
began to leave her body. She closed her eyes as the
gentle kneading continued, his warm fingers
stroking her neck and shoulders and upper back.

His hands were gentle, never dipping below the
level of her exposed flesh. Yet whenever he would
brush his thumbs up her neck to the sensitive spot
behind her ears, she would shiver with pure delight.

"Shall I wash your hair?" he whispered.

Charlotte bit back a moan of delight. She wanted
to sit there for hours with his hands on her bodyher head, her neck, her shoulders, everywhere. But
it was too dangerous to allow this to continue.
Somehow she had to show him this was madness.

"I already washed my hair," she lied.

"Pity. Then are you finished in the tub? Since you
did not allow me to bathe you, may I have the
honor of drying you off?"

Charlotte's eyes popped opened. He reached for
the towel that Jones had left warming by the fire
and held it out to her.

"You have lost your mind," she declared, stunned
by his sudden disregard for anything that was
proper.

"Have I?" His lips twitched.

"Yes." Charlotte narrowed her eyes, trying to
ignore his boyish appeal, telling herself they would
both be ruined if she allowed this to continue any
longer.

"Hmmm, the set of your jaw tells me that you are
not jesting," he remarked. "If I promise not to tease
you any longer, can we have a serious conversation?"

Here? Now? He truly had lost his mind. Charlotte
gave a scornful huff. "Edward, please, if you have any
regard for me at all, you will leave at once. My nerves
are overset at the very thought of what would
happen if you are discovered in here."

Indignation rang in her voice and it struck Charlotte that she was being somewhat hypocritical,
since she had never cared to any great extent what
society thought, and even more telling, a part of
her very much wanted him to stay. But she was also
being realistic, a role that the earl usually undertook, but for some unknown reason had abandoned utterly.

He opened his mouth to say something, seemed
to think better of it and shut it without speaking his
mind. He took her hands and she looked down at
his feet. He was wearing clean boots that were
nicely polished, indicating he had not yet taken his
morning ride. Proof that he had indeed been waiting for her to make an appearance.

For an instant she felt a pang of regret for shutting
down her emotions toward him, for so adamantly
trying to eject him from her chamber, but then she
reined in her wayward thoughts. This was hardly the
time or the place to have a flirtation or a serious
conversation.

She waited for his curt bow, his formal departure,
but he surprised her once again by bending his
head until she felt his breath at her temple. One of
his hands came to the exposed top of her shoulder,
his fingertips resting lightly on the creamy flesh.

"You are right, of course. I can hardly string three
coherent words together when you are in that tub
and so delectably close. We will talk later."