Bright moonlight streamed through the windows. Gaslight slanted through the doorway of the adjoining dressing room to a huge four-poster bed where Captain Tollier sprawled supine.
She tiptoed closer. One half of a well-shaped leg dangled off the side. A single sheet covered the other leg and barely reached his lean waist. From there honey-blond hairs scattered in a ‘V’ all the way up to the ridges of muscle lining his chest.
C.C. had never seen a man in such a state of undress. While she admired his raw beauty, something wicked and forbidden tingled inside.
Slumber softened the vibrant charisma and shrewdness that animated his face. With his sun-kissed hair tousled all over his head he looked almost as young as his portrait. And she now realized his expressive brows were at least three shades darker—drawing two long, dramatic lines tapering practically to his hairline.
She found herself taking short breaths as her gaze traveled his entire length. Of all men, why did she find him so fascinating? Was he worth a king’s ransom?
When she’d lived here before, her strolls often ended in the long gallery where she’d find herself gazing at a painting of a younger version of Captain Tollier, standing on a cliff with ships sailing in the background.
He looked fearless, an adventurer traveling the world, experiencing life at its fullest. How she’d yearned for such a life and admired him all the more for his courage and ability to go after it.
She needed to stop staring and wake him. The sooner she got his agreement, the sooner she could help her family. After placing her lamp on his bedside table, she couldn’t resist brushing a lock of hair off his forehead.
His generous lips drew into a lazy smile. Thick lashes fluttered, drowsy and dreamy. He appeared to be enjoying a pleasant dream.
She stepped a little closer to give him a shake.
Quick as a bullfrog catching a fly, he coiled an arm about her and pulled her on top of him. The sensation of his body’s provocative maleness registered first. Next were his soft, deft lips covering hers, stifling her yelp.
In an instant the pleasure of his kiss stole her reason. Mercy! Her objective seemed to float off…somewhere. With great effort, she raised her head and tried to say, “I need—”
He placed a hand at her nape and gently pulled her back, slurring, “I need you too, my beautiful dream maiden.”
In one smooth roll he had her under him, pinned to the bed. “I knew you’d come to me,” he mumbled while raking his lips down her neck.
Gasping with surprise, her senses filled with his heady fragrance. Laws, he smelled delicious—a combination of his exotic citrus cologne, his own masculine scent, brandy and the aroma of fine Cuban cigars—the kind she liked to smoke herself.
No, this shouldn’t be happening. She didn’t need a tour of his wicked expertise. It was his seamanship she needed. He must stop immediately! “Don’t,” barely came out a whisper.
“You’re the most ruh-ruh-ravishing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He circled the shell of her ear with his tongue and dipped inside, tickling it with his warm breath. Shrills streamed down her spine, finally spurring her mind back into action.
“No. Oh, no! This is not why I came here.” She tried to wriggle out from under him.
“Easy, luv, easy now. It’s only a dream,” he slurred.
“No!” She bucked, frenzied. “This is NOT a dream. Please STOP!”
He raised his head, wheeling it from side to side, as if seeing things for the first time. A noise between a growl and a groan resonated in his throat. He rolled off onto his back and flung an arm over his brow while dragging in ragged breaths.
“I, I didn’t come here for that,” she stuttered.
His heavy-lidded gaze rolled around her face. “Madam, you acted as if that was exactly why you came here.”
“No, no. You wouldn’t let me explain. I came here to talk business. I need your help,” she said, sitting up.
Tugging the tangled sheet over himself, his retort came in hisses, his sentences truncated as he made adjustments. “When a beautiful woman comes…to a man’s bed, the business…requires little discussion. I’m in no condition to discuss—”
“But this is of utmost importance. You must hear me out.”
“You tempt me beyond reason, woman.” His eyelids fluttered closed, then sprang open. “If you remain, there’s every likelihood we’ll—” He waved his arm toward the door. “Out! Now! Before I lose what self-control I’ve left.”
***
C.C. came down a little later than usual to break her fast. The breakfast parlor was empty save for a footman. After filling her plate at the sideboard, she sat at the far end of the table and sipped her special blend of coffee. This morning she needed its extra jolt.
Somewhere during her self-flagellation over last night’s fiasco, her teetotaling naïveté finally grasped the fact that the captain had been deep in his cups.
She’d known he was a rogue, but this was getting absurd. Twice she’d tried to talk to him and twice he’d derailed her with seduction. Ordinarily, such actions would bristle her sensibilities. She pressed her fingers to her swollen lips to keep them from stretching into an idiotic grin.
He’d nearly bedded her, and she’d almost let him! Heat warmed her cheeks. Her actions may have lacked propriety and good sense, but a small, wicked part of her wondered—what would it be like to surrender to a man she admired so immensely?
For goodness’ sake. What was the matter with her? She must keep her eyes open and head clear. Memories of her disastrous scandal made her cringe. Acid churned in her stomach at the thought of their names…Captain Sterling…Jacob Rives.
She mashed her fork into her plate of eggs. Any dreams of being a wife and mother ended long ago. Her scandal closed that path and sent her down another. Now, as an expatriate oddity, she had special empathy for society’s castoffs. It brought her immense joy to help those whom fate had dealt a harsh hand. Her independent mind and purse made it possible. After a decade of self-sufficiency she was loath to let English marriage laws take away her autonomy.
Something twinged in her chest. A part of her suspected Captain Tollier might provoke the most disastrous emotional consequences and threaten that independence.
Still, the fact remained: she needed his help. He was the only one even remotely qualified and available. She would sit right here until Captain Tollier came down for breakfast.
A man cleared his throat.
She looked up from her plate and nearly uttered an indecency.
In the doorway stood Lord Falgate.
What her dear friend Sarah saw in him, she would never know.
He instructed the footman to fill his plate and then walked the entire length of the empty table. There he motioned for the footman to seat him in the chair right next to hers.
As Falgate chewed on his crumpet, he thoroughly looked her over. His wide mouth and bloodshot eyes held the makings of a cruel smile combined with equal parts malice and oily charm.
A frozen rictus of a grin drew at the muscles of her face.
He didn’t appear to notice her expression or the marmalade leaking down his chin as he lingered overly long contemplating her breasts. Then he leaned too close for a better view of the rest of her, giving her the sensation that he could see straight through her unmentionables.
So his lordship wished to dole out a bit of intimidation. She let her voice rise to a girl’s pitch