fingertip traced her jaw, and Christine’s eyes closed on their own volition. “Are you frightened of being lonely, Miss Archer?” His words were a whisper. He leaned toward her so that she could hear his breathing, smell the mingling of sweat and cologne.
In an instant, a tingle raced through her and her breathing turned shallow. He was close. So close. She wanted him to kiss her. God, yes, please.
Fire blazed in her bloodstream, wetness dampened her thighs. She wanted him. Perhaps it would be better if he were the gardener. She could assuage this ache without getting herself into trouble.
Suddenly there was only emptiness as his hand moved away from her face. “Open your eyes, Miss Archer. I’m not going to kiss you.”
The flush of embarrassment that swept through her quickly turned to anger. How dare he tease her this way? The rake! Her eyes flashed open, and she glared at his charming, smiling face.
“Not yet, anyway.”
Her gaze sharpened on him. “What does that mean?”
Raising an eyebrow, he swung his legs. The branch danced with his movements. “I know who you are and it is not a governess named Victoria.”
A gasp escaped her lips. A mistake. Now she could not deny it. “Who am I then?” she whispered.
With a wink, he slid closer. The heat from his body washed over her, teasing her. “Lady Claybourne, of course. The woman who was supposed to marry my brother.”
* * *
Even if she tried to deny it, William Preston, Lord Kingston, could read the shock on her face. Damn, he loved it when he was right.
It had taken him only a few minutes to see through her disguise. She was no shy governess. She was a lady on the run.
On his brother’s last visit, John told him about the elusive bride. She had distinctive auburn hair and eyes the color of jade. His brother described her perfectly, though he had not seen her face.
No, in fact, he’d signed the marriage contract sight unseen. It was only at a costume party that he glimpsed his masked bride-to-be. The same party from which Lady Claybourne had slipped away and disappeared. William guessed it was the only thing she could do to avoid the marriage.
“Do you deny you are Lady Claybourne?”
Her lovely green eyes blinked. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. How did you know?”
“I make it my business to know my brother’s business.”
Those slender fingers gripped the tree firmly. “What are you going to do with this knowledge?”
William shrugged. “How badly do you want it kept secret?”
A blush colored her cheeks. Damn, was it charming. He wanted to brush his lips across the vibrant marks, lick her neck until she was red for an entirely different reason.
“Do you know why I want to remain unwed?”
Two servants descended the hill toward them. “You are a recluse. There were damaging rumors about your London Season. You never left your home after you returned in shame.”
Succulent red lips twitched. “How do you know I was shamed?”
William laughed. He liked her more and more. “My brother isn’t a cruel man. You might learn to love him.”
“I do not want to love him. I want to return home. To the land and house that should be mine. It belongs to me, not to some man who claims my hand in marriage.”
“Oh? Then why does your uncle wish to wed you off?”
She sighed. “I can only claim the property if I am not married by my twenty-seventh birthday, when I would be a certain spinster. He wants a share in something on the property which men covet.”
His gaze swept over her again. Though the governess dress fit loosely, it could not hide the ravishing beauty of the woman underneath. Her skin glowed with sweat, auburn hair trailed down her neck. He could imagine her in bed, how she would twist beneath him and arch her back to take him in. He’d thrust his lips against her throat, dig his fingers into her glorious those thick tresses.
Within seconds, he was hard.
William cleared his throat. “How close are you to twenty-seven?”
“One month.”
“In one month you can return and claim your inheritance?”
“Only if I am unmarried.” She glanced to the base of the tree.
Help stood near the ladder waiting, but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. No, she’d probably disappear from here just like she disappeared that night at the ball. She intrigued him like no other. Besides, she was destined to be his brother’s. And that made her all the more tempting.
“Why should I keep silent on your masquerade, Miss Archer? Or should I call you Lady Claybourne?”
“I will beg you if I must.” Her lip trembled.
How he would rather her beg him for other matters. Like having his tongue slip between her folds. Or having his cock pound her into bliss. His erection pulsed.
William brushed his hand across her leg. He heard a sharp intake of breath as her gaze moved to that spot. He trailed a finger from her knee up her thigh. “I have come to save you from this tree. I know the secret you keep from my brother. Certainly there is something you can do for me.”
“You want me.”
She said it without looking at him, without taking her eyes from his roaming fingers. She said it without disgust or reservation.
“I’ll not ask you for that, Lady Claybourne. That is yours to give. I will settle for another means.”
The air between them thickened, quieted with the heat of her thoughts.
“My lord?” A shout came up from the ground. “Are you ready to descend?”
William waved his hand at the servants. He needed more time with this intriguing woman.
Her cheeks paled. “How is it possible that the employment I found to keep myself hidden is with the father of the man I am running from?”
“It does seem like an evil twist of irony. But perhaps fate has other plans for you.”
“It’s not to marry him!” She bit her lip then looked at him with dark, imploring eyes. “I’ve only one more month. You can’t tell him. Please.”
He felt sorry for her. Sorry for her predicament. Yet, in a way he was excited. He’d love nothing more than to dupe his brother, to keep the one thing he wanted most away from him. For his entire life, William was always second best. As the second son, his father did not approve of his carefree lifestyle although he was given little responsibility. No, it seemed he could never please his father. Long ago, he’d given up trying and set out to enjoy life with all of its gifts.
His brother did not love Lady Claybourne; he wanted her inheritance, the rich fields attached to her manor. Marriage to her was a business arrangement. It was the only reason John would forgo the rumors and agree to marry an eccentric spinster.
“I’ll do it.” Her voice had strengthened.
“Do what?”
“I’ll trade you my body for your promise.”
His arousal leaped, but his chest constricted. No matter how he longed to have her beneath him, he was not a heartless cad. He’d not use her this way. “I can’t accept such a bargain. Even a rake such as myself has some honor.”
“I am desperate, my lord. I’m ready to do what it takes to keep my home.”
“You think by me taking you as a lover, it will keep my lips sealed?”