Baron of Clubs: Lords of Scandal Read online

  Everything about this woman made him ache. How did she manage to evoke such a reaction even after they’d been together for hours?

  He wasn’t much for pontification, but the color of her lips made him think of a sunset over the ocean or flower petals covered in morning dew. These sorts of musings were a serious problem. Alarming even. He was a man who rarely talked, let alone wax poetic.

  He’d imagined her body to be soft and pliant, but as she curved into him, he had to acknowledge that the reality surpassed the imagination. She fit against him as though she’d been crafted just for him.

  A surge of desire washed through him, the sort that he tamped down as quickly as it rose.

  He’d allowed that desire to sway him into making a snap decision. She’d stood before him in his entry looking so damned perfect…

  How could he deny her?

  Deny himself?

  He closed his eyes, reining in his thoughts. Desire was not the reason he was here…mostly.

  The truth was that this woman needed help and he’d been in the unique position to give the aid she required. Not only did he wish for a bride, not only did he want her, but…he liked a certain emotional distance, always had, and with an arrangement like this, he’d be able to keep it.

  On the surface, their situation appeared perfect.

  He inadvertently tightened his arm, fitting her closer.

  In response, the pressure from her hand increased as she tried to create distance between them.

  Inwardly, he cursed. The reality of their situation was anything but…

  Because despite having asked for him to marry her, she didn’t seem to want to be anywhere near him.

  They hit another hole and the carriage bounced, but Lizzie remained tucked against his side.

  She relaxed her hand on his chest. “That was better. Thank you.”

  He gave a quick jerk of his chin to acknowledge her thanks. “We’ll be driving for hours. You ought to get some sleep.”

  Her tongue darted out, licking over those full lips. He watched its progress, his own body clenching, once again, in response.

  “I’m fine.”

  She didn’t sound fine. Her voice trembled as her hand increased the pressure on his chest.

  She acted as though she were as frightened as a rabbit who was being hunted.

  A muscle in his jaw ticced as he considered what he ought to do. He’d eloped with her only to discover over the course of the last two hours, she likely thought him the devil…

  Perhaps that was a bit dramatic. But she’d been cagey from the moment they entered this carriage.

  He’d seen flashes of uncertainty in her eyes before, but if she were unsure about him, why ask him to be here at all?

  That was a twist he’d not considered when he’d agreed to the elopement. And one that might prove damned difficult. He wanted a match that was neat, orderly, and devoid of as much feeling as possible. How did fear fit into his ideal scenario?

  Especially because it was too late to change his mind.

  They’d never make it back to London before her absence was discovered, which meant they’d marry for certain.

  He appeared to be dismantling his own life in very swift order.

  He’d agreed to this in part so that he might make an heir, slate his lust, and help her all in a single move…

  But a wife who feared him would leave both of them…unsatisfied. Meanwhile, his partnership with her brother was likely to end after this. Not the worst blow financially, but not the best either.

  He’d made a gut decision. A method that usually worked in his favor, but not this time. That was what happened when he allowed desire to influence his choices. He ought to have left all emotion out of it. Even that particularly pleasing one.

  “Really. I don’t need sleep.”

  The tired lines around her eyes declared her a liar. “I’ll keep you from bouncing about if you’d like to close your eyes.”

  She shook her head, several tendrils of hair falling out, one of which drifted over his shoulder, its light brush making his body clench in awareness once more.

  “I’m all right. Would you like to sleep?” And she began to push away again. He let her go this time but didn’t move off the bench, remaining at her side. Why would she have agreed to elope if she barely wished to touch him? Was it just the newness of their relationship?

  “I’m used to intermittent sleep. You are not,” he said with a frown as she resumed her tight-knuckled grip on the handle, her face growing even paler. Perhaps she just feared the journey and not him?

  Did cutpurses scare her? Highwaymen? Was that why she was afraid? Hope filled his chest.

  He would allow neither to harm her.

  Did she suffer a sickness from the rocking of the carriage? “Do you miss your brother?”

  Her visage went even paler. “We’ve not been separated since the death of my parents, it’s true.”

  He relaxed at her answer. He personally hadn’t felt any grief at his father’s passing. The emotion had been more akin to relief. But the circumstances had been unusual. If she grieved for her parents still, she likely missed her brother already. Was that the reason she seemed so tense? Did he ask? They didn’t know one another very well. Obviously. If he did ask, would she tell him the truth?

  “The journey will go much faster if you rest.”

  She looked him up and down, her gaze growing weary. “I don’t wish to sleep.”

  He let out a long slow breath, as she pressed farther into the corner.

  So much for his theory about her brother. She was definitely leery of his proximity.

  He raked an agitated hand through his hair, and she visibly winced.

  Christ.

  What a disaster this deuced elopement was. Perhaps his father had the right of it all along. Colton managed to land himself in trouble every time he met a beauty in need.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lizzie woke to steady rocking and lifted her head, completely disoriented. Where was she and why was the world moving so?

  But her questions were quickly answered as she spread her fingers out on a solid wall of warm, firm muscle.

  She pushed up, her head turning to meet the hazel gaze of her future husband.

  He silently stared back in response.

  A shiver ran down her spine as her breath caught in her throat. She’d like to push off him, but her body was wedged between his much larger frame and the back of the seat, one of her legs resting between his, her body running all along his side.

  How had she managed to become so tangled in him? She pushed a little harder, trying to lift herself up, but only managed to flex her hips so that her pelvis ground closer to his, her leg even more caught up than before.

  Had her sleeping self not been afraid of him?

  Apparently not.

  What was more, some low ache throbbed between her legs as though her body actually liked the proximity.

  Odd.

  “I…” she wet her lips, giving up on attempting to remove herself. “I fell asleep.”

  “Some hours ago,” he confirmed.

  “How did I…how did we?” She ran her gaze along his large chest, the flat of his stomach, and powerful thigh. She could only see the one because the other was thoroughly encased in her skirts. “I don’t remember falling asleep.”

  One brow notched up. “One rarely does.” His low rumbling voice never failed to rock through her.

  What she had meant was that she didn’t remember falling asleep on him. She’d been pressed into the corner with him next to her and then... “How did I end up…” She looked up at the ceiling, attempting to choose her words carefully. “Asleep on you?”

  He let out a low chuckle, a lovely, deep sound that reverberated through the hand she still rested on his chest. The vibration settled between her legs, humming in the most delicious way.

  Her words hadn’t been articulate or subtle, but they expressed her point at least. She hadn’t m
eant to become so intimately entwined.

  “You shifted so that your head was on my shoulder, and when you didn’t seem comfortable, I lay back to stretch out my legs and allow you to spread out too.”

  Ah.

  Despite the chill in evening air, she was cozy warm against him and loathe to move.

  Strange, considering her fear earlier.

  While the man was still a mystery, he made a fine pillow. And she’d remained well kept in his care. Which begged the question, what had she expected to happen in his company that had caused her to be so afraid?

  Lizzie let out a sigh. She’d never been alone with any man she wasn’t related to in her life and this particular male was so very…manly in that silent sort of way.

  What woman wouldn’t be a touch overwhelmed?

  What was he thinking during those long silences, anyway?

  “Well, thank you for allowing me to…um…sleep…on…you.” She attempted once more to push up, but her leg, wedged between the seat and his, couldn’t gain purchase.

  In response, he dropped the arm that had been rested against the back of the seat around her waist and lifted so she went from next to him to on top of him with a simple flex of his biceps.

  Not only did the move display his full strength, but the moment her chest landed on his, her belly against his, her nether regions… She stopped that thought, her breath caught somewhere between her throat and her heart. Her eyes were likely wide as saucers as she looked up into the depths of his, so close and so arresting.

  “Better?” he asked, his hand still about her waist.

  Better? How could her mind possibly formulate an answer to such a complex question? “I…”

  She licked her lips again, if for no other reason than to stall answering.

  But when his gaze drifted from her eyes and fixed on her mouth, she pulled her tongue back in, pressing her lips shut. Instead of answering, she gave a simple nod.

  And then proceeded to push up on his chest to put some distance between them.

  But the moment she executed the move, she understood why it had been an awful idea.

  Dreadful.

  Because as she lifted her shoulders and bosom away, her hips… Well, they rocked closer. And her legs had to spread out on either side of his impressive thighs and with her legs spread this wide…

  Well. Something long, hard, and very firm pressed right into the softest part of her body.

  Her eyes nearly rolled back into her head at the contact as delicious sparks of pleasure coursed all through her.

  In response, his gaze turned molten, and his hands came to her hips and then he pressed her just a little closer and…oh…the pleasure.

  “My lord,” she whispered, the two words coming out in a breathy plea that only seemed to add to the intimacy.

  “My lady,” he replied, not sounding breathy at all. More gravelly and low and…the ache throbbed.

  She swung her leg over him, knowing she had to break contact because some force was moving her well past her point of comfort. But her other foot wasn’t properly planted on the floor between the seats, and so, as she swung, her entire body landed in a heap on the floor.

  “Drat,” she huffed as she looked up at him, still reclined on the seat.

  “Lizzie,” he said reaching down and grabbing her under the arms like the child she likely appeared to be. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded as he lifted and blessedly sat her on the other seat.

  Finally, with some distance, she could breathe. And think.

  Her first coherent thought was that she’d just made a complete fool of herself.

  And her second…

  Well, her second thought was that she’d like to be snug against him still.

  When had that happened? “I’m fine,” she said attempting to straighten her twisted skirts. “I’m not sure this trip has gotten the most auspicious start.”

  He smiled at that, a lazy, one-sided grin that made the ache pulse once again. “On the contrary, I’d say it’s improving by leaps and bounds.”

  Her breath stuck again. “Wh-why do you say that?”

  He sat up finally, running a careless hand through his hair. “We’ve a good six days before we reach Gretna Green. I look forward to a few more carriage naps.”

  Her chin tilted down as she looked at her lap, heat flaming in her cheeks. The intimacy of the conversation had her shifting in her seat as she cleared her throat.

  Because the nap had been delightful, the waking up all tangled together, that made her think of what other intimacies awaited her in the very near future…

  When Lizzie’s cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled in the most delicious way. Colton stared at her as her eyes flicked to his and then away, her hands fluttering a bit like birds dancing together in the garden.

  Granted, they’d made huge strides since this morning. And when she’d straddled him, Colton’s teeth snapped together, and he’d done all he could do not to flip her underneath him and kiss her senseless.

  But he’d held back because…a woman could only be kissed senseless if she wished to be, and he still wasn’t entirely certain how she felt about him.

  And even if she liked him, he knew Lizzie had led a very sheltered life. She’d not had a season. Nor had she spent time in society which meant she had little or no experience with men. Not something he’d not thought of until today.

  Which was fine. He’d just need to go slowly with her. While he wasn’t looking to foster an emotional connection, she would be his wife. Cordial behavior was at least required.

  Colton understood. He had his own reservations, he supposed. While he had plenty of experience with physical intimacy, having had his fair share of women all looking for the same sort of brief encounter to alleviate a basic need, he had very little deep intimacy with anyone in his adult life.

  He hadn’t really shared any part of himself since he’d lost Mary, and she’d been gone for well over a decade.

  “Is napping something married couples do often?”

  He sat up then, wishing to reach out and touch the silky strands of Lizzie’s hair that had escaped her coif. How would he know? He’d never known his mother as she’d died giving birth to him. His father had never remarried. “I’m fairly certain we can decide if it’s something we partake in as a couple or not. It’s been my observation that each couple makes their own rules.”

  She nodded absently. “That’s true. It’s been so long since I spent real time with a couple. I’ve forgotten.”

  “How long ago did your parents pass?”

  “Eight years,” she said with a wince.

  “And then it was just you and your brother?”

  “That’s right.” She eyed him again, a sidelong glance through her lashes. “I mean I have an aunt, but she never married and—” Her fingers smoothed out her already-smooth skirts. “I’ve very little knowledge of how all of this is supposed to work.”

  Colton let out a long breath. Because that concisely explained her nervousness and gave him something to build on.

  The carriage rolled to a stop, and he flicked open the curtain, realizing they’d arrived at a first inn. The Great North Road had many. And while Colton was tempted to keep driving in case Lizzie’s brother was in pursuit, he also didn’t wish to overtask her.

  She’d been up all night and while she’d taken a decent rest this afternoon, she was liable to be tired still.

  However, spending time at the inn was a risk.

  But as they exited the carriage and made their way inside to a relatively cozy inn for a meal, Colton made up his mind to stay.

  While his goal was to marry Lizzie, he realized he needed to do a bit of wooing as well. Enough to make their marriage harmonious. And while that wasn’t a job he knew a great deal about, it seemed wise to give the task his best effort.

  This desire for Lizzie had taken over his every waking moment and the only way it would ever be properly exercised was if she wanted him the way
he did her.

  Securing two rooms, they dined and then made their way upstairs. He opened Lizzie’s door, allowing her to enter. “I’ll be just next door.”

  Her gaze swept the room before returning to his. “Is that a connecting door between our rooms?”

  He heard her hesitation, the way her breath hitched. “I believe so.”

  She gave a small, tentative nod. “I see.”

  Looking down the hall, he noted that they were alone, but all the same, he didn’t relish this conversation to occur where anyone might walk by and overhear. Moving into the small room, he stood just inches from her as he closed the door behind him.

  She gasped, stepping back and bumping into the bed behind her.

  He reached out and steadied her. In response, she grabbed his forearms. “I promise you, I’m not normally clumsy. I’m just…”

  He looked down at her flushed face, wishing he might close the distance between them. “What?”

  “Out of sorts,” she answered on a rush of air. “I didn’t exactly think much of this through. Not really.”

  “Tell me,” he said, just glad to be holding her waist. “Why did you ask me to elope?”

  She shook her head. “I wanted Reginald…that’s my brother’s given name… Anyway, I wanted Reginald to be able to marry Arabella. They’re in love, I know it, but he was going to marry someone else so that he might provide me with a dowry and season.”

  He nodded his understanding, ignoring the small clench in his stomach. What did he have to feel disappointed about? Of course, she didn’t have feelings for him. He’d always known this was a practical endeavor. And he didn’t have some great emotional attachment either. In fact, it was his goal to avoid such fancy. He lusted after her. That was the extent of his feelings. What would it be like to have a sibling who loved him enough to truly act on his behalf? Would his life have been different if someone like that had been there for him? And what if he’d been able to really sacrifice for someone else?

  His thoughts drifted to Mary again. Regret lancing through him. If only he’d been able to do more for her…

  Which left him to wonder why he’d be hurt at all. “And is there a reason you chose me other than I offered?”