Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

I t was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that Elwood had dared to offer another personal truth about himself. A truly honest one that he never thought he would tell anyone. If he started to make a habit of this, he might be crying on her shoulder about the milk he'd spilled when he was a child and the result of his error in doing so. He could have cursed his wayward tongue. That particular organ was supposed to be wayward in other matters entirely, but lately, he found it devoted to speech that he didn't particularly want to impart.

"Perhaps you care because you know that I am not the usual sort you are used to cavorting with."

"That is certainly true," he muttered, although the teasing glint in his gaze belied the heaviness of his words.

A gust of wind had her dress fluttering about her legs and he was offered a teasing glimpse at her ankles. Immediately, his cock jerked in his trousers and he tried to ignore the temptation that she unwittingly offered. As she held his gaze with those adoring green eyes, he realized how grateful he was that they weren't blue. That was the quintessential shade of most of the debutantes and while her disposition was decidedly different, he decided that her other characteristics should be as well.

He moved closer to her, unable to resist the urge to do so. She had woven some sort of spell around him and he was powerless to refuse her, although he told himself that he should. She was starting to mean more to him than a night of pleasure. "Meliah…"

"Yes?" Her voice was a breathless whisper and it proved that she was feeling the same intensity of this moment that he was.

"Would you find error in my actions if I kissed you?"

Her mouth fell open slightly and she dared to allow her tongue to dart out and lick her lips. It was almost enough to bring him to his knees. "I would not."

To his everlasting gratitude, she moved toward him and lifted on her tiptoes, so that she might take the initiative and press her sweet mouth against his.

Elwood allowed her to take the lead before he returned the intimacy. He wrapped his arms around her and dragged her into his embrace, close enough that he could feel the fullness of her breasts as they pressed against his chest. He wanted nothing more than to toy with her taut nipples and cup those soft mounds of flesh in his palms, kneading them until she was whimpering for more. He already knew that she was a passionate woman. Her responses to him thus far had told him that much.

He also recalled that she was untried and all of these feelings she was experiencing were new and exciting. He would have to take his time and go slow. He wanted her to remember everything that they shared for the rest of her life, because something told him he would never forget her.

The sound of carriage wheels coming up the drive struck him and he reluctantly broke away. "The steward has arrived. I shall have to tell him what poor timing he has."

He was graced with a slight coloring in her cheeks. "Don't you dare!"

With a chuckle, he tweaked her nose, as if she were a child that he enjoyed teasing. He did enjoy that, to be sure, but he was not confused of her mature beauty in the slightest. "If you are concerned about being seen, perhaps you might take the back stairs? I will come to you when our business is concluded."

She eyed him warily, but she nodded. "Very well." She gathered her skirts, but before she rounded the corner of the manor, she glanced back over her shoulder at him.

He offered a silent salute to her, and then she disappeared.

Elwood blew out a steady exhale and braced himself before he walked in the opposite direction to meet the steward for their appointed meeting.

Meliah's heart was about ready to burst out of her chest when she returned to her chamber. She leaned against the door and attempted to recover her faculties. She wasn't concerned about encountering the earl's steward and coming up with a plausible reason as to why she was unchaperoned in the presence of a nobleman. Instead, she was anxious about her overwhelming reaction to Lord Belmont. She wanted to believe that she was standing strong against his advances, but he caused her to be unstable. With a single kiss, he'd upended her entire purpose for being there. She fantasized that they were embarking on some sort of illicit tryst rather than attempting to fulfill a purpose meant to secure her future.

She closed her eyes. Mayhap it would be best if she departed for London posthaste. At least then she wouldn't be facing enticement at every turn. But if she did, then she was accepting defeat. Not only that, but all of this turmoil would be for naught. She knew that Samantha would cover for her as long as possible, but it wouldn't be long before her parents would become skeptical of her continued absence. If it was noted by others…

Time was of the essence, and if she didn't want to fall prey to this rake's desires, then she had to think quickly. If she intended to write this article in response to ‘The Belle's' accusation, then she had to start putting ink to paper. She wouldn't accomplish anything by sitting there and trying—and failing—to withstand the earl's advances.

Opening her chamber door, she glanced about. It was blessedly empty, so she quickly made her way down the hall to where the earl's chamber was. She knew that only because she'd passed the single closed door in this wing on the way to the attic earlier that day.

Although she was treading in dangerous territory by braving the lion's den, she was in search of writing utensils and nothing more. Casting one more glance over her shoulder, she grabbed the knob and made her way inside, quietly shutting the door behind her.

As she did, the sound of thunder rumbled throughout the manor, the reverberation shaking the foundation to its very core. She shuddered, shaking off a sense of unease, as she moved further into the room.

She told herself that her single objective was stationery, but she had to stop and appreciate the masculine interior around her. From shades of browns and deep greens, it gave the impression of standing in a dense forest. There was a certain solidarity and mystique that surrounded her. With a glance at the large four-poster platform bed, she had a sudden vision of herself and Lord Belmont tangled beneath the bed coverings, their naked bodies writhing in the moonlight pouring through the window?—

Another crack of thunder caused her to snap out of her reverie, as she wondered where such torrid thoughts had come from. Perhaps the earl was teaching her more than even she was aware.

She hastened her steps to the writing desk situated in a corner of the room. Meliah was glad to discover everything she needed to start drafting her article. Clutching the items in her grasp, she headed for the door when she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the hall.

Her movements halted, and her eyes widened. If the earl walked in and found her there, he would surely continue their earlier seduction, and in such close, intimate confines, she had no doubt that he would succeed. Especially after she'd been picturing their own sordid outcome.

The steps paused, and she heard him knocking at her door. When he called her name, she found her chance. She glanced at the wardrobe and decided it would have to do. She prayed that he wouldn't need to change his clothes anytime soon.

As the sound of his approach became apparent, she nearly dove into the massive wardrobe. She shut the doors just seconds before he walked into his chamber. She hardly dared to breathe as he began to move about. She suddenly felt rather foolish for hiding like some sort of rat in a hole, but rather than face him directly when she was still too vulnerable, it was the only solution.

The doors to the wardrobe weren't closed completely, and she dared to lean forward and peek out through the sliver of light that revealed the center of the room, while keeping her writing implements clutched against her chest. She watched as he flashed back and forth in front of her vision, until he finally sank down in a chair near the fireplace. She noted that he was holding a tumbler of some sort of liquid, presumably alcoholic, as he slouched in his seat.

As a trail of perspiration traveled down her lower spine, she considered jumping out of the wardrobe on the pretext of a surprise, but it was what he did next that caused her to cease all movement—nearly all thought completely.

Lord Belmont grabbed his shirt from behind and brought it up and over his head, leaving his entire chest bare. If that wasn't shocking enough to see his strong, chiseled chest with its light array of hair around his pectorals, she was positively scandalized when he reached down between his legs and began to stroke himself through his trousers.

Meliah's mouth fell open slightly and her eyes widened. Her breathing began to deepen, and the air inside the wardrobe suddenly became quite stifling. She told herself that she should look away, that this was a private moment that shouldn't be shared, but she couldn't force herself to do so. It was much too… engaging not to observe.

His head leaned back against the chair and she could see the corded lines of his neck muscles become more pronounced as his movements increased. He paused long enough to down the rest of the contents of his glass and set it aside before unfastening the flap of his trousers and freeing his engorged manhood.

Having never seen a man in full erection before, Meliah was fixated on the appendage, and when he wrapped his hand around the length and began to pump himself in earnest, she actually started to feel flushed, perhaps even faint.

As he stroked with purpose, he exhaled light groans, deep rumbles in the back of his throat that had her hand tingling, slowly inching toward her core. She stopped at her hip, gathering the material of her dress in her grasp while she throbbed with unrequited desire. The fingers of her other hand dug into the writing utensils held tightly against her.

His hips started to move in time to his actions and soon there was a slight glisten at the tip of his cock. She held her breath as he gave one more thrust and ejaculated across the lower half of his abdomen.

As he was using his discarded shirt to clean up the aftereffects of his orgasm and tucked himself away, he said quite clearly, "Did you enjoy the show?"

Elwood's head was still buzzing with the force of his release, but only because he had been imagining that the enchanting Miss Newton was lurking about somewhere. He wasn't completely convinced that she was here when he'd walked into the room, but as he started to test his theory, he attuned his hearing to any unusual noises. He heard it the moment he'd released his cock. She might not have realized that she had gasped, but he had.

Using his own fantasies, as well as the knowledge that she was watching him, it was enough to send him over the edge without much effort. As he basked in the pleasure that followed, he couldn't resist calling out. He should have probably gotten dressed and left the room, acting as though he hadn't sensed her presence, but it was too tempting to let her know her observance hadn't been discounted.

And he was genuinely curious to know if she'd enjoyed his performance.

The wardrobe doors flung open and Miss Newton came flying out. Her cheeks were high with color and she clutched something against her chest as she rushed toward the door. It was obvious that she intended to make a quick escape.

That, he couldn't allow. He wasn't about to act as though this episode hadn't just taken place.

He set himself to rights, rushing to catch her arm just as she was about to cross the threshold. He slammed the door shut and spun her around, trapping her against the hard wood and an arm on each side of her. "My dear, Miss Newton. It seems that you have been somewhere you shouldn't have. At the very least, you could have told me you were here so you could have joined in."

She refused to meet his steady gaze. Instead, her green eyes fluttered as they darted about the room—lighting everywhere but on him. "I need to… go."

He reached out and gently stroked the side of her jaw. "I know what you really need," he whispered.

Her eyes closed. "Don't do this," she pleaded, although she lacked the proper conviction.

"What am I doing?"

She swallowed. "Making me want you."

He smiled. At least she was being honest. "How is that a bad thing?"

Finally, those green eyes met his. "How can you say that? There is no future in an affair between us. When it's over, you shall go your merry way, but what of me?"

"I know how to prevent children, if that is what you fear."

She shook her head. "What of love? The danger you might pose to my heart?"

He had to snort. "Don't tell me you're one of those romantic dreamers? I thought you had more sense than to be drawn into the world of poetry and prose."

As if to remind him who was in charge, she lifted her chin a determined notch. "Not everyone is as cold hearted as you, my lord. Some of us desire emotion and adoration."

"Are you quite sure, my sweet Meliah?" he purred. The hand that had touched her face so delicately moved downward to trace her collarbone and then along the neckline of her bodice. He made sure to take his time when he reached the rounded tops of her breasts. For his efforts he was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath, similar to what he'd heard on the other side of the wardrobe door.

Immediately, his cock stirred.

"If you would just allow me the chance to prove how satisfying it could be between us, you would learn that fighting the inevitable?—"

The items in her grasp fluttered to the floor. Disengaged from his flirtations, Elwood glanced down. That was when he realized the mistake he'd made. Clenching his jaw, he bent down and wordlessly gathered the items and calmly held them out to her. "It seems you dropped something."

She accepted the paper, quill, and sealed inkpot just as serenely. "Thank you."

"If you needed any writing implements, you could have just asked me, rather than acting the theif behind my back."

She had the good grace to turn slightly pale. "I…didn't realize…"

"Your subterfuge would suggest otherwise." For some reason, her actions felt more like a betrayal than he wanted to admit. For women he'd treated in the same fashion in the past, he wondered if this numb acceptance is what they had felt. With a frown, he stepped away and presented his back to her. "Forgive me for stopping you from your work since it is your only reason for being here."

The was a brief pause, as if she might have been trying to think of what to say, and then he heard the door close softly on her departure.

Deciding that he needed another drink, he walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. He told himself it shouldn't matter whether or not she was there for a single cause, but it still bruised his pride that she was still intent on that single purpose.

He moved to the window and glanced outside at the rain that had begun to fall in earnest, although he didn't recall seeing a single drop.