Scandalous Deception. Rosemary Rogers
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“How did you…”
Not about to lose the brief advantage she held, Brianna grabbed her valises and headed for the nearest bedchamber.
“Come along, Janet. We will have to wait until morning to speak with Edmond.”
Stepping into the shadowed room, Brianna firmly shut the door in the face of the servant, dropped her bags and fumbled to turn the heavy key in the lock.
“Ye are going to get us strangled in our sleep,” Janet muttered in the dark.
“Nonsense.” Holding out a hand to keep from banging into the furniture, Brianna searched for the mantle where there would surely be a flint to light the candles. “Edmond might be a coldhearted cad, but Stefan would never forgive him if he murdered me.”
Janet heaved a deep sigh. “I would sleep a mite easier if you dinna sound as if ye were trying to convince yerself and not me.”
EDMOND LEANED AGAINST the doorjamb and silently studied the female curled in the middle of the vast, canopied bed.
His breath caught at the sight of the morning sunlight shimmering in the lush hair spread across the pillows and warming the delicate ivory features. He’d expected the vision he had carried in his head from the previous night to be tarnished in the harsh light of day. No woman could possibly be as exquisite as he had imagined.
But he was mistaken.
Christ, she was even lovelier.
He battled against the primal urge to pluck her tiny body from beneath the covers and carry her to his bed where she belonged. What the devil was the matter with him? Brianna Quinn might be a beauty, but he was not about to forgive her blatant intrusion into his home.
When he had returned home last eve after futile hours of trying to locate Howard Summerville, he had been stunned to discover from Boris that two females had locked themselves in one of the guest chambers and that one of them had threatened to send a note to the London Times naming him as Edmond.
His first thought had been to break down the door and toss Brianna into the nearest gutter. The devilish chit was a distraction he did not need. Unfortunately, while he did not believe her bluff for a moment, he could not be entirely certain that she would not scream bloody murder and waken all of London if he dared to haul her from the house.
Brianna Quinn had been clever enough to outwit him for the moment, but that did not mean she held all the cards.
He had every intention of ensuring she paid, and paid dearly, for daring to cross him.
Straightening from the jamb, Edmond stepped into the room decorated in a delicate French style with amber wall panels and Savonneirie tapestries framed above the carved chimneypiece. The furniture was made of lemonwood and covered with pretty English chintz that his grandmother had considered de rigueur for a London town house.
Closing the door and turning the key he had retrieved from his housekeeper, Edmond approached the bed. Barefoot and wearing nothing more than a dressing robe, he made no sound as he crossed the Persian carpet.
He paused just a moment to savor the delicate lines of her face. The straight line of her nose, the lush curve of her lips, the thick fan of lashes that lay against the pale ivory skin.
A sleeping Aphrodite.
His hand reached out of his own accord to stroke the sleep-flushed cheek, only to pull back as if he were burned. He was here to rid himself of the pestilent woman, not entangle himself even deeper into her fascinating web.
With a sharp motion, he reached to grasp the quilt and jerked it aside to reveal her tiny form covered only by a thin chemise.
Brianna’s eyes flew open as she squeaked in alarm, an alarm that only deepened as her wide gaze caught sight of Edmond hovering over her.
“Edmond.”
He curved his lips in a cold smile. “Well, well, I see that Boris was not mistaken. My home was infested by little mice during the night.”
She reached down to tug at the cover, muttering in frustration when he refused to release his hold.
“For God’s sake, are you trying to give me heart failure?”
“Heart failure is the least of your worries,” he drawled, not bothering to resist temptation as he slid into the silken sheets behind her reclined form and gathered her trembling body to spoon intimately against his. “I did warn you what would happen if you stayed beneath my roof.”
She stiffened in shock as his hands touched her, exploring the slender curves with the confident assurance of a well-seasoned seducer.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
His head lowered to stroke his lips over the bare skin of her shoulder, brushing aside the narrow ribbon holding up her chemise to taste of her lavender-scented skin.
“Claiming my reward,” he murmured, nipping the curve of her neck before soothing it with his lips.
“Stop this. Edmond…” She caught her breath as his hands found the proud curve of her breasts, strumming his thumbs over the sensitive tips. “Dear lord.”
“Do you like that, ma souris?” he whispered next to her ear, allowing his tongue to trace the delicate shell.
“No, you cannot,” she groaned, her hands lifting to cover his own, although they made no effort to halt the soft caresses.
“Perhaps you prefer this.” He teased the tender nipples until they hardened to tight little buds, his cock growing thick with need as she moaned in pleasure. “Yes, sing that sweet song for me.”
Kissing a path down the curve of her neck, Edmond breathed deeply of her intoxicating scent, one hand slipping down to press flat against her stomach, urging her backside more firmly against his aching erection.
He had started this to frighten the minx into fleeing his home, to prove to her that he would not be cajoled or threatened or manipulated into taking her in. His purpose in joining her on the bed, however, was swiftly being forgotten beneath the searing flood of hunger that pulsed through his body.
He would be driven mad if he did not have her soon.
Still caressing her breast with one hand, Edmond allowed the other to slip over her stomach and down to the delectable heat between her legs. He hissed in pleasure as he felt the dampness through the thin material of her chemise.
She wanted him. Her body could not lie.
Debating whether to simply lift her leg over his hip and enter her from behind or to lay her on her back so he could watch her face as she received him into her body, Edmond was caught off guard as she suddenly began to struggle against his hold.
“No.” Squirming with determination, she managed to turn to face him, although he refused to allow her to break free. The green eyes smoldered with a combination of anger and terrified desire. “Damn you, Edmond. All I ask for is your protection until Stefan can become my legal guardian.