“Welcome to Blackthorn Manor, madam.”
Jordan stepped out of the limo and stared at the four-story monstrosity before her with something between shock and admiration. It was huge and utterly breathtaking. Vines clung to the stone walls, weaving across the front, adding charm and color to the cold beige rock. The Tudor-style windows were open, letting in the spring breeze and the scent of jasmine clinging to the air.
She glanced toward the front stairs leading to the massive oak door. Standing at the top, just outside the arched doorway, were two people who could only be the housekeeper and butler.
The woman’s gray dress came almost to her knees. Her white apron was splattered with flour, and Jordan grinned when she saw her unconsciously wipe at it. The man was dressed in a dark suit, the back of the jacket slightly longer than the front, his tie more like an old-fashioned cravat. He stood regally, his gloved hands clasped before him, his gray hair not moving in spite of the breeze.
Must use a lot of hairspray, she thought, with an inward chuckle.
With hand extended, she made her way up the steps. “You must be Rene and Kimberly.”
“Yes, madam,” Rene replied regally. He bent at the waist, bowing slightly, while the woman to his left curtsied. She appeared younger than the butler, probably in her mid-forties or thereabouts. Her dark brown hair held just a hint of gray, and the blue of her eyes sparkled with general good humor and friendliness. Jordan couldn’t help but smile at her.
“Please, call me Jordan. Madam makes me feel ancient.”
Kimberly grinned, but Rene pursed his lips in disapproval. “That would not be proper, madam. Perhaps Miss Taylor would be more preferable?”
“Miss Jordan would be even more preferable,” Jordan said with a slight grin. He was certainly a proper old thing.
“As you wish.”
She turned to stare at the massive oak double doors leading into the entryway. “Wow,” she sighed, still not sure where to begin. There was so much house.
“If you would like, Miss Jordan, I’ll help you pick out a room and get you settled. I know you must be terribly exhausted from your trip. You can take a nap before dinner.”
Jordan smiled at Kimberly, a little relieved. “That would be wonderful.”
She was tired. She’d left New York around five this morning. Of course to be able to leave at such an ungodly hour, she had to be there an hour prior, and then there was the hour drive to the airport. Now that she thought about it, she probably hadn’t gotten more than two hours sleep.
“If you’ll permit me to make a suggestion. There’s a room toward the back on the second floor. It’s the original master suite and has a terrace overlooking the gardens, which are in full bloom right now.”
“Kimberly,” Rene said with a slight hint of warning to his tone.
Jordan glanced at him questioningly.
“It would be the perfect room for her, Rene. After all, she is the new mistress of the house.”
With that said, Kimberly ushered her into the great hall. The heels of Jordan’s shoes tapped against the Italian tile as she stepped further into the room. A massive split staircase, circling into opposite directions halfway up, dominated the hall. Mahogany was everywhere, from the antique furnishings to the wainscoting covering the lower portion of the wall.
A large round table took up the floor, with flowers overflowing the crystal vase in the center. Walking over, Jordan leaned forward to sniff their sweet fragrance. She loved flowers of any kind.
“Those are from the garden,” Kimberly said with pride.
“They’re lovely.”
“The original owner of the house, Drake Montgomery, Viscount Blackthorn, designed the gardens. They’ve been added to over the years, but they’ve never strayed from the original design.”
Drake Montgomery. Now there’s a hero’s name if I’ve ever heard one.
Images of dark hair and deep blue eyes flashed through her mind, sending a slight tingle along her flesh. Yep, definitely hero material.
“Follow me and I’ll show you the room.”
Jordan turned and followed Kimberly up the staircase, her shoes silent on the red carpet lining the steps.
*
Drake Montgomery moved to stand next to Rene, his butler of almost four hundred years now. If Rene and Kimberly hadn’t walked into his suite at the time that woman spouted off the spell, he would have spent the last four centuries in solitude. In some ways, he was glad they were here. He didn’t have to live this nightmare alone. But in other ways, he felt guilty—they didn’t deserve this.
“She’s everything her grandfather said she was,” Rene whispered.
“Yes, she’s quite lovely.”
Drake watched the sway of her ass as she moved up the stairs and fought down a stirring of lust. Her long blonde hair hung down her back, curling on the ends. The short bangs she kept in the front gave her an almost childish look, but there was nothing childish about her figure. The woman had the body of Venus, the voice of an angel, and those blue eyes of hers set his heart racing with thoughts of long nights staring into them.
It’d been a long time since he’d felt anything close to attraction. Of course, living as he did, who did he have to be attracted to? He had all the modern conveniences, thanks to previous owners, but no real companionship. Until Jordan’s grandfather, Charles Taylor.
Charles had listened to his story with interest, and they’d talked for hours about how he could get out of this mess. Charles had even hired an expert to try and reverse the spell, but to no avail. Drake had remained stuck in limbo.
He had to give the old man credit. Even after his death, he was still trying to free Drake. Jordan was apparently his last-ditch effort. Drake and Rene had received Charles’s letter just a couple of days ago, informing them of Jordan’s arrival and why she was there. He was convinced she would be the one to soften his heart.
“If my Jordan can’t do it, no one can” were his exact words.
“I’m sorry Kimberly put her in your suite of rooms, my lord. I’ll see what I can do about getting her moved,” Rene said, pulling him away from his thoughts.
“No. That’s quite all right. It might actually make things a little more interesting.”
Rene gave him his best disapproving look. “It’s the interesting things that got you in this mess, if I recall.”
“Trust me, Rene,” Drake drawled in amusement.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but trusting you is a bit of a stretch these days.”
Drake chuckled. “I want out of this mess badly as you, old man.”
“Then might I suggest a different strategy?” Seeing Drake’s raised eyebrow, he continued. “Perhaps someone from the area?”
“And how would I explain never being able to meet her anywhere but here?”
“Good point, my lord.”
Kimberly rushed down the stairs; her cheeks flushed pink in excitement. She came to a stop before Drake and curtsied. “Isn’t she lovely, my lord?”
“Yes, Rene and I were just discussing her loveliness.”
“Among other things,” Rene said dryly.
“She’s taking a nap before dinner. Poor thing was exhausted. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll start dinner. It’s so nice to be able to cook for guests again. It’s been so long since her grandfather was here.”
Drake gazed toward the top of the stairs, his brow drawn together in thought. Suddenly his lips spread in a grin. “I have an idea.”
“I don’t think I like the way you said that.”
Drake frowned at his butler. Sometimes the man could forget his place. “You don’t have to like it, Rene. Just do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it.”
Rene nodded, realizing he’d overstepped his bounds. “Of course, my lord.”
* * * *
Jordan sighed, sinking further into the most comfortable mattress she’d ever slept on. Kimberly had told her it was a down mattress. As soon as her maid left the room, Jordan stripped down to her satin panties and climbed under the nine hundred count sheets. She could get used to this.
Sleeping in nothing but her underwear was a normal thing for her. She couldn’t stand clothing binding her while she tried to sleep. She wanted freedom of movement. With a yawn, she studied the masculine bedroom with its shades of navy blue and beige.
The dark mahogany furniture shone with a fresh layer of wax, and she scrunched her nose at the smell. The pictures on the wall were of sailing ships, old pirate vessels. They were all very beautiful, with their sails full, the waves crashing against their bows, but they just weren’t her. This room definitely needed a woman’s touch.
Closing her eyes, she sank into darkness. The scent of jasmine assaulted her nose and comforting warmth surrounded her. She breathed deep, letting the breath flow out on a soft sigh. Was she dreaming? She must be—she felt so at peace, so content.
Soft fingers feathered up her arm, and she opened her eyes to stare into a pair of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
They were beautiful and so was the man they were attached to. Black hair hung around his shoulders in unruly waves and surrounded a face which was pure, chiseled perfection. His noble nose topped off full lips—the kind she just wanted to kiss all day. The kind which would feel incredible against her skin.
She had to be dreaming. No real man could look that fine. It was dark, and candles cast flickering shadows against the soft gold walls. The curtains fluttered in the warm evening breeze, sending hints of jasmine and roses across the room.
“Who…?” she began, her voice sounding odd in the quiet darkness.
“I’m Drake, my lady,” he whispered.
A breeze parted his white linen shirt, exposing a chest wide and hard with muscle, a body accustomed to hard work. His skin was tanned by the sun, his waist and hips the perfect accompaniment to his upper physique.
“Drake? As in Drake Montgomery?”
He nodded and a devilish gleam entered his pretty blue eyes. She must’ve been thinking about him before she fell asleep and this is what her subconscious dreamed up.
Damn, my subconscious did an excellent job. Bravo.
His fingers pulled back the covers, exposing her almost naked body to his heated stare. Cool air hit her flesh, but she didn’t even notice. The heat in his eyes kept her warm. She’d never had a man look at her like that—like he could eat her alive. It excited her, warmed her, and thrilled her.
He ran his palm up the outside of her thigh. His hand was warm, his palm roughened by calluses. Every part of her trembled with desire as he gazed in appreciation at her body, igniting a flame between her legs begging to be quenched.
She murmured sleepily, “You keep looking at me like that, and dream or not, you’ll find yourself well and thoroughly fucked.”
Drake raised an eyebrow, and then grinned, his eyes flashing mischief. “All in due time, my lady. And just to clarify, you’re the one who will be well and thoroughly … fucked.”
Her breath hitched at the image of being taken by this hunk of a man. Dreams were wonderful things. She could be whoever she wanted to be, say whatever she wanted to say. He used his lips to blaze a trail up the inside of her thigh, and she sighed at the feel of his moist kisses against her hot skin. He removed her underwear, tugging them down her legs with infinite slowness.
She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her aching pussy. She’d never been interested in oral sex before, but then, she’d never met anyone who knew what the hell they were doing. This was a dream, and she had no doubt her dream man would be incredible, fulfilling every naughty desire her subconscious could come up with.
His gaze locked with hers as he gently separated her labia lips, and she froze, unable to tear her eyes away from his. He blew softly against her clit, and she gasped at the hot, tingling sensation that traveled up her spine. Closing her eyes, she laid her head back against the pillow and raised her hips, silently begging for him to continue.
Drake feasted on the sight of her spread before him. She was beautiful and completely uninhibited. He should feel at least a little trepidation over what he was doing, but he didn’t.
Leaning forward, he circled the tip of his tongue around her clit. Her taste was sweet, and her moans made his ever-tightening cock twitch against his breeches. It had been so long since he’d been with a woman. He wanted nothing more than to ram himself inside her, sate himself inside her tight, hot body.
He’d never had such a strong reaction to someone, even when he was alive. Her grandfather had talked about her so much; he felt as though he knew her already. Her grandfather had been convinced she would be perfect for him. And perhaps she was.
Watching her writhe against the sheets, he could definitely admit to her perfection. She was stunning.
“I like how you’ve shaved between your legs,” he whispered as he smoothed his hand over her mound. “So much easier to taste you.” He slid his tongue along her slit, making her moan. “And explore.” He dipped his tongue deep within her folds, lapping at her juices.
Drake watched her breasts rise and fall with her sighs. They were perfect. Not too big, not too small. The exact size for his hands. Or hers. “Squeeze your breasts for me. Let your fingers pinch and pull at your nipples.”
He watched as her hands moved to her breasts, kneading, squeezing. Her pink nipples hardened into tiny pebbles beneath his touch, and he ached to take one in his mouth. Slipping two fingers into her tight vagina, he moved upward, capturing a pert bud into his mouth. She groaned, arching her back and grinding her hips against his hand.
The woman was incredible and stretched his control to the breaking point. "Ah, that’s it, Jordan. Fuck my hand, my fingers. Pretend it’s me filling you, stretching you, making you scream with pleasure.”
“Drake,” she sighed.
He knew she was close. He could feel it in the tiny throbs against his knuckle. Shifting his hand, he curved his fingers, brushing the sensitive spot on the upper side of her vagina.
“Oh, God. Yes.”
“Come for me. Scream my name,” he whispered around the tip of her breast.
She did, loudly, and Drake smiled in pleasure. He liked the sound of his name on her lips.
He continued to stroke her, easing her down from the high. He watched her eyes close as he softly kissed her lips. “Until the next time, my lady.”
There was so much more he had planned for her. Hopefully, he could get her to fall in love with him within what she thought was her dreams, thereby making it easier for her to accept him in reality. The plan had flaws, he knew, but it was his only option.
Jordan Taylor was his last chance to be human again.