Chapter Nine

After Alec’s rather loud exit, Lottie made several valiant attempts to concentrate on her book, but it was useless. Even when he wasn’t in the room, the air still seemed to hum with tension. As if the very atoms themselves restlessly awaited his return. Lottie finally tossed her book aside and turned down the lamp. Perhaps it hadn’t been very sporting of her to tease Alec about sharing the bed, but when she caught his heavy-lidded stare, a wave of heat had seared her from the inside out; his steady gaze pinned her even from across the room, until he blinked and turned positively missish.

She hadn’t really meant anything untoward by the suggestion—the bed was massive, and he had been covertly rubbing his shoulder all day. His scandalized reaction was all the more surprising, given how easily he had brushed off her ogling of his naked person only minutes before. Then when she alluded to their childhood sleep-out, Alec had blushed so furiously she thought steam would shoot from his ears. His clipped response was little more than a growl, but it sounded as if he was fighting against something.

And losing.

Lottie thought she’d buried her ridiculous romantic streak years ago back in London, but for a glimmering moment it had taken hold of her heart and whispered its seductive delusions once again:

He does want you. All this must have happened so you could finally be together.

Until Alec had practically catapulted from the room, leaving her alone with only her pitiful desires for company.

Lottie closed her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep, but instead her mind summoned the image of Alec’s bare chest dusted with dark hair still damp from the bathwater. She had never given much thought to something as ordinary as collarbones before, but now she longed to have another look at his.

No, that wasn’t right.

She didn’t want anything as innocent as a simple look. Lottie craved something deeper. Something darker. To drag her tongue along the length of each one with studied care, so she could savor the taste, the smell, the texture of his skin. She hadn’t ever wanted to do something so purely carnal before. Now she positively ached for it.

Lottie opened her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. This lingering uneasiness between them, as if something had been left unsolved, would drive her mad. That was why she loved puzzles. There was always an answer. But her and Alec…their jagged edges no longer seemed to match. And no matter how hard she mashed them together, they would never fit. At least, not in the way she had once wanted.

That is not the kind of life for a man with a family.

Uncle Alfred had been quite right at the time, but Lottie wasn’t a naive nineteen-year-old anymore. Perhaps it wasn’t that the problem was unsolvable, but that she needed to change her answer. Alec might not want a family, or a wife, but he must want something. And she hadn’t imagined the heat in his eyes, just like she hadn’t imagined the evidence of his desire the previous day.

Lottie twisted the warm sheets in her hands. She had spent the last five years waiting for someone else to spark even a hint of what she had once felt for Alec—and it had all come to nothing. Worse than nothing. For no matter what Alec or Uncle Alfred tried to say, her reputation had already been irrevocably damaged the night she publicly rejected Ceril Belvedere.

Lottie had been blindsided by the priggish young man’s ardent kiss on Lady Arlington’s balcony, as well as the clumsy proposal that followed, but she had refused him in the gentlest terms she could think of: “I’m afraid we don’t suit.”

At first Ceril appeared to be equally blindsided by her answer, but then his rather pallid complexion turned bright crimson and his slender frame began to quake.

“You—you’re rejecting me?” he sputtered, staring down at his freshly polished shoes. She had never seen him speak with such emotion before. About anything.

Lottie couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. She, too, was familiar with the pain of rejection and moved to pat his shoulder. “I apologize for any disappointment this may have caused you; it was never my intention.”

But before she could make contact, Ceril suddenly looked up; his dark eyes were filled with hatred and Lottie immediately drew back her hand. Her suggestion seemed only to anger him further. “Disappointment?” he snarled. “Your father was nobody. I will be an earl. You should be grateful I ever paid an old maid like you any mind.”

Lottie knew she should walk away then. Knew she should keep her mouth shut, and not cause a scene. Let him throw his little tantrum and be done with it. After all, he was hardly the first man to spout such drivel, but the trouble was Lottie hadn’t ever felt this tired before.

She was angry. Affronted. And she refused to listen to this horrid little man cast aspersions on her beloved father, whose life had been worth ten of his.

“Yes,” she seethed. “How could I not be grateful for the attention given to my fortune.” She stepped forward until it was Ceril’s back against the wall. “And my father may not have been born into a title, but he certainly possessed enough sense to balance his accounts.”

Ceril looked positively shocked to have his less-than-honorable intentions, as well as his family’s reckless spending, called out so plainly. Then the frown returned, darker than ever. “The rumors about you are true. You’re nothing but a jilt. And a tease.”

If she had been a man, Lottie would have called him out. She had only ever been polite, as etiquette dictated she be to every man who asked her to dance or made conversation. There was no point wasting anything more on him. Without another word, she spun on her heels and returned to the ballroom, but instead of letting her go quietly, Ceril had been right behind her and took no pains to hide his extreme displeasure. It was clear to everyone what had happened between them. But all sympathies fell to the desirable young bachelor, not the lady on her fifth season.

Such was the way of things.

Even Uncle Alfred would not defend her: “I’ve tried to reason with the chap, but he won’t have you now. He’s planning to offer for that damned American glue heiress instead. You could have been a countess, Lottie. I won’t indulge in your silly notions any longer.”

Those “silly notions” had been waiting for a love match. For what was the use of having her own fortune if she couldn’t even do that? “Uncle, you can’t have expected me to marry Ceril—”

“Ceril Belvedere is exactly the kind of man you should marry.” Before she could illuminate him on the finer details of what exactly that meant, he plowed ahead. “I made a terrible mistake in allowing your mother to marry whomever she wanted, and look what happened to her.”

This accusation had rendered her speechless.

Lottie’s father was the only son of a wildly successful Scottish tool manufacturer. Not a blue blood by any means, but John Carlisle was well educated and ambitious. He had met Lottie’s mother, Ada, while she was admiring the June roses in Regent’s Park and later described it as “love at first bloom.” Though tongues had wagged over the parvenu groom, the Carlisles enjoyed an unusually happy marriage, until they died in an all-too-ordinary carriage crash in Richmond.

Lottie’s eyes prickled. “That was an accident,” she said thickly.

“And it will not happen to you,” he vowed. Uncle Alfred was always absolute in his opinions, but she had never seen this nonsensical side of him before. “I can only assume that a case of nerves has led you to behave so irrationally,” he continued. “You need rest. Take a trip somewhere and prepare yourself. Because jilt or no, you will be married by the end of next season. Even if it’s not anyone of quality.”

Lottie could only imagine the type of man who would offer for her now: a moldering aristocrat desperate for funds or some politician Uncle Alfred needed to manipulate. Or worse. It was then she understood that she could never bargain with him again. And it was then that she first began to form her plan. But though it had been fairly easy to create the illusion she was ruined, making it true was another matter entirely. There were benefits she had not considered. At least, not until Alec turned up on her doorstep…

At some point in the night, hours after he left, Alec returned. Lottie heard him stumble around the darkened room before he came to the edge of the bed and watched her in the shadowy darkness to make sure she was asleep.

“Lottie,” he murmured, loud enough to get her attention but soft enough not to wake.

She bit down on her lip. This was a trap. She wanted so badly to answer him, to pull him down on top of her, to have one rough palm spread her wide and take what she gave, but not now. Eventually, he sat down on the other side of the bed. Then came the sound of boots dropping on the floor. Alec let out a weary sigh as he laid down on top of the covers. A man in control would have been able to share her bed without reservations, while a man determined not to lose control would have slept in the chair.

But Alec seemed torn. And when he finally let his guard down, there would be Lottie waiting to be ruined.

  

It had taken hours before Alec rebuilt his will to the point where he could enter their room. And yet, as soon as he stepped inside, it promptly crumbled to bits. The very air was filled with her scent of rosewater and warm skin. But after days of too little sleep, that bed was enticing as hell even without the presence of Lottie. He only needed a few uninterrupted hours of rest. Then he would fully regain his control. And his reason.

That night his sleep was mercifully dark and dreamless.

Until it wasn’t.

In the waking hours the rules governing polite society and his remaining shreds of self-control separated them. But here, in the deepest recesses of his subconscious, Alec was free to do as he wished, as he desired. Here Lottie wanted him.

And only him.

Alec approached her from behind and slipped his arms around her waist. He buried his nose in her loose hair and inhaled deeply as he pulled her body against his own. On the terrace their layers of clothing had kept them apart, but now only a slip of gauzy silk came between them. He smoothed a palm slowly down to her hip, then drew her round, ripe bottom against his aroused flesh.

He could feel everything—her soft gasp, the warmth of her skin, every beat of her thudding heart.

“Are you frightened?” he whispered, letting his lips graze the soft shell of her ear.

She let out a short laugh. “A little.”

Alec’s mouth curved. “I’ll be so gentle, my love.”

Lottie raised an arm and stroked his hair, just as she had done yesterday. “I know. I trust you.”

The words tore at his heart, as painful as they were pleasurable. He had done nothing to earn her trust, but he would take it all the same. Then she pressed back against him and Alec nearly lost his mind as the shock of pleasure radiated through his starved body. He rolled his hips, reveling in the feel of her soft flesh cupping his swelling erection. It had been so long. Too long. But he had been waiting this whole time. Waiting for her without even realizing it.

He moved his hand away from her waist and skimmed his fingers along the curve of her small but shapely breast. Then he began to gently pluck her nipple with his thumb and forefinger. She drew in a long, ragged breath.

“Do you like that?” he murmured.

She laughed again, but it was shorter and more breathless this time. “I suspect I’ll like anything you do.”

His response was little more than a desperate grunt. Alec slid his hand down her side. The silky gown slipped between his fingers as he drew up the hem. Then he brushed ever so lightly against her sex. Lottie moaned her encouragement and her fingers curled tighter in his hair, tugging at his scalp. He pressed harder, working that most sensitive spot. Of course, because this was a dream she was already shuddering toward her release. But his dreams had never been so detailed before. He could feel her slickness, could practically taste the salt of her skin.

And yet, he needed more. He needed everything.

“Alec.”

The sound of his name on her lips spoken in such raw desperation pierced the veil of sleep. Alec’s mind tried furtively to cling to the fantasy as it slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, but then he woke to the sound of rustling and the feel of a warm body pressed against his own.

One that could only belong to Lottie.

Alec’s eyes shot open. His arm was flung possessively around her waist and his hips—Christ, he was practically grinding them against her backside.

He immediately pushed away from her and fell directly onto the floor, landing on his back in a room-shaking thud. Alec stared up at the ceiling in a daze as his heart still pounded from the turns of his wicked mind.

After a moment, Lottie poked her head over the side of the bed and blinked sleepily. “Are you all right?”

He let out a relieved sigh. Thank God she had slept through his attempted ravishing. “Fine. I…I must have had a nightmare.”

Lottie stared at him. “You were asleep?”

Alec shot up off the floor. “You weren’t?”

Her brows rose in shock and she sat back on her knees. He took in the deep flush on her cheeks and lips, and in the early-morning light the rosy tips of her nipples were just barely visible beneath her sheer cotton chemise. Alec’s fingers twitched and he turned around as his cock began to stir again, as if he was nothing more than a randy schoolboy. But wasn’t this the very stuff of a schoolboy’s dreams? Alec pressed a hand roughly against the front of his trousers and took a calming breath as an unsettling thought came to him: Had any of it been a dream?

He whirled back around. Lottie hadn’t moved from her place on the bed—and still looked freshly tumbled.

“Alec,” she murmured. Her voice, husky from sleep, sounded exactly as it had in his dream; like the very devil herself was calling to him. But if Alec took so much as a step toward her now, it would be all over. He would not stop until he wrenched everything from her, from them both. Lottie had no idea how deep the rot inside him went. Not a clue. And he needed to keep it from her.

I imagine I will like anything you do.

Alec ignored the throbbing between his thighs and raked a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry if I—I violated you in any way,” he said. “This is entirely my fault. I should have slept on the chair.”

She reared back in confusion. “Violated?”

Alec let out a desperate huff and placed his hands on his hips. Her reaction was not helping matters. She should be mortified. Outraged. Disgusted. Not—not hurt. “Well, what else would you call it?”

“You didn’t force yourself on me,” Lottie insisted. “I thought you meant—” she began, then seemed to think better of it and shut her mouth.

“What?” he demanded, his voice tight with anxiety. “Did I say something?”

God damn it, if he had spoken any of it aloud, and if she questioned him on it now, he would fall apart.

Lottie’s eyes widened. She hesitated, wetting her lips, their fate on the tip of her tongue, but then she shook her head. “No. You didn’t.”

Alec let out a sigh, but the relief was cold comfort. Barely a taste of her, and it was already miles better than anything he had experienced.

He turned his head away. “Then for God’s sake I wish you had.”

  

Lottie winced at the anguish in his voice. She didn’t know which felt worse: his worry over her reaction, or his very palpable regret for having touched her in the first place, however briefly.

Though Lottie’s heart had begun to pump with furious anticipation when Alec’s arm had slowly wrapped around her waist drawing her firmly against him and offering a tantalizing tease of what lay beneath his clothing, it was nothing compared to the pure joy that had burned through her when he murmured my love. But the utter horror that crossed Alec’s face shortly afterward made it clear that he certainly hadn’t been dreaming of her.

“It was nothing. Really. You were obviously asleep and it was a momentary indiscretion. There’s no need to make this into more than it was,” she said stiffly. If he had so easily brushed her off last night, she could do the same now. “I certainly won’t.”

Alec blinked slowly. “Forgive me,” he began. “I didn’t realize it was of such little consequence to you.”

Lottie clenched her hands against his bone-dry tone. “Well, I’m certainly not going to give in to a swoon because your penis pressed against me for twenty blasted seconds.”

Lottie had never said the word penis aloud before. To anyone. Not even herself. She was rather proud not to have stumbled over it. “Yes, I do happen to have a basic knowledge of biology,” she railed on in the face of his obvious shock, masking her hurt with impudence. “And in case you weren’t aware, women are just as prone to desires of the flesh as men are.”

Alec collected himself enough to shoot her a murderous look. “I am quite familiar, I assure you.”

Lottie ignored the jealous flare in her chest and lifted her chin. “Then we understand each other,” she said with a calmness she most certainly did not feel. “You’ve also answered a few lingering questions I had about the male anatomy, so thank you for that.”

He let out a sputtering cough. “What?”

“You needn’t worry. I’ll be sure to put the knowledge to good use with a willing partner next time.”

Alec’s mouth dropped open, but she did not wait for his response. Lottie rose from the bed with all the regality of a queen and moved to the washstand. Her hands barely even trembled as she performed her ablutions. Alec remained in place but she could feel his gaze burning a hole in her back.

“You go too far, Lottie,” he finally muttered.

Her eyes began to prickle against the hurt swelling inside her, but she squeezed them shut until those tears dried up. She would rather die than cry in front of him now. When she turned around, Alec was bent over his bag, packing with swift, agitated movements.

“I had no idea you were such a hypocrite.” She barely spoke louder than a whisper, but Alec immediately stopped and glared at her.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You expect me to feel shame for my desires. For my experience.” Lottie made sure to sound as authoritative as possible. The last thing she wanted was to reveal exactly how limited her experience was.

“That’s not—”

“But you have no right to judge me. I know what men in your position are like,” she continued.

Alec’s glare remained, but he swallowed. Hard. “Is that so?” He took a step toward her.

Lottie managed a nod and focused on steadying her breathing. She would not show him any weakness.

“Enlighten me, then.” He took another step, his eyes burning into hers.

She gripped the side of the washstand. “You are willing to do anything, use anyone, if that gets you what you need.”

No desire.

“So don’t you dare try to act like someone noble. Someone with morals.”

Nothing but anger.

At that, he came to a halt. Alec’s jaw worked as he considered her. “And you’re suggesting that activities of a carnal nature are among the many things I do?”

She gave him a hard look. “I know they are.”

But Alec moved again, and this time he didn’t stop until they were mere inches apart. Lottie was forced to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. Then he leaned over and murmured by her ear. “Now where did you get an idea like that?” His warm breath tickled her neck, like it had only minutes ago. “Don’t you know those spy novels are fiction?”

Lottie dug her nails into her palms against the shiver of pleasure that stole over her and remained in place. “Don’t mock me. And it’s not an idea. Uncle Alfred said as much when you left. That you were looking forward to it.”

Alec pulled back. “He told you that I planned to use seduction to get information?” He spoke as if the idea was absurd, but his jaw tightened yet again.

More or less.

Lottie didn’t even blink. “He said you were the best man he had ever recruited. That he expected great things from you. And that you would use any means necessary. The implication was very clear.” Her voice began to break on the last word, but as she moved to push past him, Alec caught her by the shoulders. She gasped as the warmth from his hands shot through her. She hadn’t realized how cold she was.

“And you just believed him?”

Her stomach twinged with guilt at the desperate note in his voice. Of course she had. It never crossed her mind to think otherwise. Until now.

“What alternative was there?” she demanded. “You certainly weren’t there to offer one.”

Alec didn’t answer. Instead, he immediately released her, as if her very skin scalded him, before letting out a frustrated, foul curse. “He shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Why? Is it not true?” As she said the words, something lifted inside her chest. It was a moment before she recognized it as hope.

Alec hesitated, but then the wild look faded. “No,” he admitted. His voice had gone soft. “It’s true…I’m sorry.”

Lottie bristled. “You needn’t apologize to me for doing your duty,” she mumbled through her disappointment. What a fool she was.

Alec watched her closely. “Perhaps, but I want to anyway. And for just now,” he added. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. I wasn’t trying to shame you. I only meant…” He paused and furrowed his brow, searching for the right words. “I only meant that such things are better when they truly mean something.”

The implication being that with her it meant nothing. She certainly wasn’t the woman he had been dreaming of. Lottie lifted her chin. “Then perhaps you should take your own advice,” she tossed off.

Alec let out a surprised laugh. “You know, I quite agree with you on that,” he said bashfully. Then he turned around and moved toward his bag. “Shall I send for a maid to help you dress? The train is supposed to leave at nine.”

“Yes. Please do,” Lottie answered despite the wretchedness churning inside her.