Minerva's Match Read online

  “There was no mother to explain anything, remember? And my father thought having to take care of me in any way a bother.”

  “Poor girl.” He rolled off of her but pulled her half on top of him, holding her close. “The cad should have asked for your hand. He should have protected you. Where is he now?” The truth was he didn’t know if he could stand it if she told him. He wanted to tear the man to pieces, and he didn’t even know his name.

  “I have no idea where Oliver is. My father said something about him securing a position in the States.” An ocean away was maybe just enough space to save the man. “So you see, you wouldn’t be compromising me at all. I’d like to do that, with you.” She stroked over the fall of his trousers where his cock strained to meet her hand.

  His eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh God, Minerva. Don’t.”

  “Are you like your cousin?”

  That snapped his eyes open. “What do you mean by that?”

  “It was just that Eleanor told us that, well, Simeon, the duke, er, your cousin…”

  “Spit it out, woman.”

  “Simeon hadn’t had much experience with women.”

  His groan was no doubt heard rooms away. “I never intend to marry. So I didn’t, well… There was, but…”

  “Spit it out, man,” she mimicked and then started laughing.

  Good God, who would have thought he and Simeon had that in common.

  “Minx.” James rolled her under him, keeping her trapped, keeping her safe. He’d told himself that he’d wanted to wait until he’d found someone he loved and then had promptly stopped looking for love at all costs. Yet this impossible girl made him wish things were different, that he could marry, have a family, be respectable in the eyes of the ton, and could be exactly what he wanted, instead of living in this shadow realm, where he was neither one nor the other.

  She looped her arms around his neck. “James, neither of us is promised to another, neither of us expects to ever marry. We can enjoy each other’s company now while this little bit of adventure lasts. I know you are going to put me on a coach tomorrow, and we might never see each other again.”

  He pressed his lips to the swells of her breasts, loving how she pushed against him to add to the friction, how her buds pressed against the light fabric of her blouse. “Not sending you home yet. They haven’t awarded the prizes.”

  “When they do, we’ll be the winners. And I want you to take whatever money we don’t need of what we earned tonight. I’d consider it an honor to help repair your estate.”

  He plucked at the ribbon keeping her blouse to some semblance of modesty. Right now, he didn’t want her modest; he wanted her as wild as he felt. With the ribbon untied, he worked on the buttons of her chemise, and once those were dealt with, he had her breasts bared for his glorification. And glorious they were, pale pink flushed skin topped with darker pink tightly furled aureoles.

  He grazed his teeth over the buds there and Minerva gasped. He wanted her to know by his actions how much she meant to him. He wanted her to enjoy what he was doing, but he just wasn’t sure.

  “Did that feel good?”

  “Yes. Very. More.” Her voice had grown husky with need, and his own was the same.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The soft prickle of James’ evening growth tormented and delighted Minerva. Oliver had never touched her quite like this. He’d been more for fumbling through without taking their clothes off. Easier to jump up and not get caught that way.

  James pulled away for a moment and stared down into her eyes.

  “Are you sure, Min?”

  “James, don’t make me hurt you.” They both laughed, and some of the dark tension lifted.

  She shouldn’t have told him about Oliver. Right now, lying here with James, she wished she’d never met Oliver, but one couldn’t change the past, just live with the consequences. She reached down and undid the fall of James’ breeches. His erection pushed at her hand, hard, hot, and so very male.

  James was unwrapping her as if she were a gift. He uncovered one small piece of her at a time and delighted in each part he revealed. One by one, she undid the buttons of his shirt, kissing his chest after each. His chest was a wonder of muscle, with dips and swells to catch her interest. She had been correct that his skin was sun bronzed. She smiled at the thought of him working beside his tenants. She couldn’t wait longer and pulled his shirt over his head, making him stop kissing her.

  He chose that moment to stand, and she missed the warmth of his body on hers. Was he having second thoughts? She wriggled farther back on the bed, clutching at the coverlet. But he just stood looking at her as if she had some answer he needed. He must have gotten what he’d been seeking, because he shucked his boots and then leaned forward to remove hers.

  His breeches hung rakishly from his hips and straining cock. Yet he didn’t rush like… No, she wouldn’t let Oliver take anything more from her. She wanted this, with James, at least for now.

  “My God, you are stunning,” James said quietly after removing her skirt, and she felt a tear roll down her cheek. At least the fire was low so James didn’t see it. He was too busy rolling her stockings down one after the other, teasing whispers across her skin. She didn’t know who he was teasing more, him or her? He was staring at her now in her shift and her drawers. He moved in a daze, achingly slow, and it unsettled her.

  “What is the matter?” she asked.

  His head rose from where it was bowed, and the look in his eyes made her heart flutter in her chest. She’d never thought a man could look at her the way he was, so awestruck, wanting but respectful.

  She didn’t want him to answer her question for fear she was reading his interest wrong. She didn’t want an answer that would puncture the illusion, so she pulled him to her and kissed him, hoping he’d forget she’d said anything.

  “Let me pleasure you.” His words were almost lost in his kisses as he worked his way down her body, raising her shift higher the lower he went. She let out a soft gasp when he removed her drawers. And a louder one when he bent his head toward her.

  “What are you doing?”

  He smiled, both surprising and bewitching her at the same time. “Pleasuring you.”

  “But I thought…” He’d all but said he had little experience with women.

  “You of all people should realize there is a wealth of information in books.” His grin alternated between shy and devilish. Her breath stoppered in her chest as he stroked his fingers over her quim.

  He bent again and kissed her thighs, gently nudging them apart to make room for his shoulders. She could only stare in shocked fascination as he dipped his face to her core and nuzzled her there. A startled squeak escaped her when his finger dipped between her nether lips and he drew in a deep breath at her scent. She was torn between the urge to close her legs and the need to open to him more.

  “James…”

  “Let me look at you. You are exquisite here.” He stroked over her folds again. “Like some exotic orchid from a forbidden continent.” He leaned in and kissed her there this time. It felt… breathtaking. Truly. She had to remind herself to breathe, and then he started licking at her, and breathing became secondary to the sensations he roused in her. He stroked her even as he lapped at her, until he sheathed a finger inside her. She sucked in a breath and arched her back. Muscles she didn’t know she had clenched at him, and he groaned in response.

  Her body felt heavy, and she started to tighten all over. She felt so strange. Breathing was a chore as James continued to lick her. She wasn’t even sure she liked this, but she didn’t want him to stop either. He thrust two fingers into her now and slid them in and out, mimicking copulation. This she knew, but it had never felt this overwhelming with… “Oh, James!”

  “Minerva, so sweet, so soft.” His words were a groan.

  Then her body began to clench in earnest. What was happening? Had she contracted some kind of illness? She was going to… “James!” She screa
med his name before her body seized and shook. She clawed at his hair, taking hold of it so she didn’t lose touch with reality. And then she was floating on waves of rapture.

  She had died, that was the only explanation. No one could feel like this and still be living. Yet she could see James, feel the lassitude of her body. She just needed to close her eyes for a bit.

  He kissed her neck and she pulled him to her lips. Her dew still coated his mouth, and she could taste herself there. Salty. Nothing like she’d expected. His erection lay hot at the juncture of her thighs as he covered her with his body. His weight was a steadying presence for her overexcited nerves.

  “Did I do well?” His smirk told her he knew he’d done just as he had intended. Now she understood more what Eleanor and Louisa were talking about. She had guessed that she hadn’t had a good lover before, but this man, experienced or not, was willing to take the time and care a woman might need. She bit his lip in response and flipped them so she now straddled him. Louisa had told her you could most definitely ride a man as you would a horse. Now she was going to get her chance to see for herself. “What are you thinking, Minerva?”

  “That I’d like to test a theory.” She tilted her hips and watched as James sucked in as much air as he could.

  “I don’t want to get a child on you.” He looked almost sad when he said it. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. He was thoughtful. Would that Oliver had been as much. She leaned forward and kissed his chin and then his chest as far as she could reach. Sweat glistened on his skin and tasted of salt on her tongue. Not unlike what she had tasted like on his lips.

  “I won’t let that happen.” She wanted to add “again” but didn’t. He would want to know her whole sordid tale.

  She rose up and hovered over him. She could have sworn he was holding his breath. Then she eased him inside her, could feel her flesh yielding to his, and almost laughed at the way his eyes rolled back in his head. He was thicker than… No, she mustn’t bring her ghosts here.

  Minerva settled herself over him and began to rock, mimicking a slow trot on a horse. She stopped when James groaned, but then he nearly yelled at her not to. A moment or two of that and the man flipped her to her back, making the same thrusting motions he had with his fingers, only now the instrument of her pleasure was much larger. He reached down and pulled one of her legs up around him. Oh yes, that was better.

  “God, Minerva!” He pulled from her, thrust two more times against her abdomen then spent himself in a warm wash over her. She lay exhausted, and she had barely done anything. She was only half conscious when he removed himself from the bed and then returned with a wet cloth and began cleaning her.

  “You don’t have to do that. Here, give it to me.” James shook her off and continued his ministrations. Tears pricked her eyes again. That was too many times this evening. She wasn’t nearly this sentimental.

  “Open.” She had no idea what he was talking about, but then he nudged her knees apart and soothed her with the rinsed-out cloth. His care shocked her. The depth of just how bad a lover Oliver had been struck her full on. “I… I shouldn’t have done that.” James would barely look at her.

  “Done what? Offered to clean me?”

  He stared at her as if she were daft. “No. Lost control, taken you.”

  “James, you didn’t take me. I freely offered.” She reached out and grabbed hold of his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. “And I enjoyed every moment. Did you?”

  Now he blushed enough for her to see it even in the low light of the fire.

  “I did. I’m glad I did that with you. It meant… Maybe we just shouldn’t think too much about it.”

  He tossed the rag in the washbowl and flopped on the bed beside her. She ran her hand through his hair and he winced.

  “I knew it! That brute did get you.”

  “It’s nothing. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I’d like to just fall asleep, holding you. I slept well last night.”

  “I did too. James, you weren’t in any danger when I was throwing the knives at you. I knew perfectly well what I was doing.”

  “I almost believe you, but next time, I get the blindfold. Come sleep.”

  He curled them up under the covers, and as much as her body wanted to sleep, she couldn’t. James started snoring in her ear, and she had the wicked urge to nip at him. No. The man needed his sleep. She tucked the covers around him when she left the bed. He hadn’t dressed, and she couldn’t resist a good long look at the muscles she could see. The man could be one of those anatomical drawings that picked out all the muscles on the body. She gathered up their clothes and found James’ pockets stuffed with bills and coin. She’d seen the innkeeper talking to him but had forgotten it in the heat of the moments after the fight.

  Sitting at the table, she carefully counted out how much money was there. Enough to get one of them passage on the coach but not much more. She knew what he would say. She’d be on the coach tomorrow morning first thing. But he didn’t know how much money they had, did he? She wasn’t duplicitous by nature, but this was about the greater good. It made sense that she stay until they won the prize, and then they could split all of it and travel back to London together.

  She glanced over at his sleeping figure and took just enough of the money that neither of them could travel home. She held her breath as she tucked it into one of the knife pockets of her skirt. It would be safe there. The rest she piled and stacked on the table by the fire, where James would see it in the morning. After they paid for some breakfast, there would most certainly not be enough to travel on.

  She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face. Her adventure wasn’t over quite yet. With that thought, she yawned and slipped in beside James. Even in his sleep, he took care of her. Wrapping her in his arms, holding her close to him so that she was kept warm and safe. She sighed and her body relaxed into sleep.

  She would never marry, but if she were to, a man like James would be the kind of man she wanted. Too bad a man like him wouldn’t want her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  James cracked one eye slightly open and groaned. Then he buried his face in the hair of the minx who shared his bed. He waited for the dread to rock him and found it didn’t. Perfect, as if he needed more proof that the Lansford line ran in his blood. His sire had tupped any woman who’d crossed his path, whether she be a maid or a lady, and his sire’s indiscretions had killed his governess in childbirth. The only woman who’d seemed to give a damn about James when he was a child.

  And now he’d followed in his father’s footsteps and taken Minerva, twice. Though the second time she’d been the one to wake him with kissing and caresses in the night. He’d been powerless to tell her no. He’d tried, but she’d pouted and run her hands… He groaned and bucked his hips involuntarily against her bottom. The woman should have slapped him; instead, she wriggled against him, as if inviting another round of lovemaking.

  He ached to have her again, but she needed sleep. Still, he could hold her for a little longer, breathe in her scent of herbs and flowers and sex. Dammit. He was a cad. He pulled her closer, the only thing between them the thin lawn of her shift. Scant protection that was from him.

  He’d never thought to marry. From the moment his mother had died bearing an adulterer’s child, he’d sworn he wouldn’t ever make himself vulnerable to that kind of disloyalty. Never give his heart away, never bind himself to another. But this girl was unlike any other. And, of course, there was his unfortunate situation, which was the practical reason he should never marry. He never should have touched her, yet now that he had, propriety demanded he offer for her.

  He huffed down the bark of laughter that almost erupted out of him. Offer for her? She was already his wife, at least according to Scottish law. Though she didn’t know that.

  “Again, James?” Minerva turned in his arms. Certainly, he didn’t deserve to wake to her smiles for the rest of his life. No amount of penance could have bought him that prize, yet h
ere she was, smiling at him as if he were her prince. Would that he could be, but he was always to be cast as the pauper.

  “Again?” He questioned her, confused.

  She slid her silky thigh along his rigid manhood, and a shudder wracked him. His body begged, but his head needed to prevail. “There is something very demanding in the bed with us.” She reached down and traced her fingers teasingly over him now.

  Good God, he might come just from that alone. He closed his eyes, pulling great drafts of air in to quell the urge to thrust against her. “Minerva, we need to arrive at some kind of an understanding.”

  She must have guessed his meaning from his steady gaze at her, because she huffed and turned petulant. “There is no need. We discussed this last night. It isn’t as though I were some green girl. I knew what we were doing.”

  “So, you do this kind of thing all the time?” He knew damned well she didn’t. There had been one other man and that when she’d been too damned young. If he ever met the man, he’d like to horsewhip him bloody. From the way she’d reacted to her release last night, it was clear she hadn’t taken much pleasure from the man’s attentions either. The thought warmed his heart. He’d given her that pleasure, shown her that there could be tenderness and sensuousness in the act.

  “Now you are just being an arse.” She pulled from his arms and scrambled off the bed.

  “My point was, regardless of your state when you came to this bed last night, you and I have had relations, and I must offer for you.”

  “Fine, you’ve offered, poorly, but it doesn’t matter. I choose not to accept. There, we’ve settled that. I’m hungry, and I want more than bread and some butter to break my fast.” She turned from him and began putting her traveling clothes on. How perverse that he preferred her in her country costume.

  “Minerva, I won’t hear otherwise. You could be with child.” No woman of sense wanted to be in such a situation. Even his mother hadn’t abandoned his father when she’d been carrying someone else’s child. The thought of being left to care for the child on her own had kept her tied to the man, no matter how much she might have detested him.