Dangerous Desires Page 3

  “We have no family, and my father had few friends that he trusted. I suppose he felt Rochford, of all people, could give me the best life.”

  Langley stared at her thoughtfully. Arlie knew he wondered if she was a blue-blood aristocrat like he and Rochford. She met his level gaze, keeping her chin up. Let him wonder. He didn’t need to know the truth—that her father was a fisherman, her mother, an actress turned prostitute.

  “Well, Dom is a wonderful man. He is certain to take good care of you.”

  “Yes, he is a good man,” she replied, meaning it. Though Rochford had not given Arlie the welcome she would have preferred, he at least had not turned her out. Instead, he did the best he knew how—showing interest in her studies, asking her questions every evening over dinner, listening to her while she played the piano. He did those things for her. She had faith that in time he would come around. She had confidence that in time they could be friends.

  When the manor came into sight, Arlie suffered from fear and trepidation. Turning to her companion, she forced a smile she did not feel. “Thank you, Langley. I’m certain I would have gotten lost had you not come along. I appreciate your assistance.”

  “Think nothing of it.” He lifted her hand in his and kissed it lightly. “ I’ve enjoyed this time with you, and though I would love to drop in on my dear friend, Rochford, I feel it would be most inappropriate at this time.” He dropped her hand. “I’m certain we’ll see each other soon.” With a wink, he turned and headed back down the tree-lined drive.

  Arlie knew something was amiss when she saw the stable master pacing near the front steps of the manor. There was no welcoming smile on the man’s face. Instead, he waited for her with hands on hips, his jaw in a rigid line. “Ya said you’d be right back. Ya promised me. Do ya know how upset his lordship is?” he asked, all but ripping the reins from her hands.

  Alarm raced through her. “His lordship is home?”

  “Aye, and he’s not vary happy with ya, right now,” he replied. “Nor was he happy with me for letting ya go.”

  “I’m sorry. I did not mean to get you in trouble.”

  He ignored her apology and walked past her with the mare in tow.

  Brushing out her skirts, she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to look as presentable as possible. She walked briskly down the pathway to the house, praying Rochford was too busy with his work to give her any mind.

  Slowly, she opened the front door, and then quietly shut it behind her. Holding her breath, she walked lightly on the tips of her toes toward the staircase.

  “Miss Whitman!”

  She jumped hearing her name being yelled from the hallway. Closing her eyes, she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to calm herself. With head held high, she walked toward Rochford’s study.

  Her heart hammered so loud she could scarcely hear anything above it. Entering the dark-paneled room, she saw Rochford sitting on the edge of his desk, his long legs crossed at the ankle. His arms braced either side of him, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up exposing strong forearms. His hair looked disheveled and as he ran his fingers through the raven tresses, she noticed his hands shook. He was either nervous—or very mad. She feared the latter, and his next words confirmed it.

  “Where the hell have you been?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I—”

  He lifted his hand, immediately silencing her. The expression on his face frightened her. He was furious.

  “Do you realize I’ve been worried sick wondering where in the world you’ve been for the past hour? When I arrived home early, I found your tutor pacing the drawing room floor, waiting for you, and not one of the servants could account for your whereabouts. I’ve been envisioning all kinds of horrible things that could have happened.”

  “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

  He pinned her to the spot, his blue eyes unrelenting. “You have yet to answer me. Where were you?”

  Knowing he would not be happy with anything she said, Arlie considered lying. But having met Langley, she knew it would only be a matter of time before he learned the truth. She decided to stretch it a little. “I took a wrong turn and ended up in London.”

  “London?!” he exploded, the veins in his forehead prominent. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “God help me.”

  “I met your friend Langley,” she blurted, hoping the words would ease his anger.

  He opened his eyes. “Langley? As in George Hawthorne, Viscount Langley?”

  “I believe so,” she murmured, not recalling the man’s title.

  Muttering something under his breath, he ran his hands down his face. “This is just wonderful.”

  “I sincerely didn’t mean any harm. I only wanted to get away for a little while. I’ve been closeted up for weeks now, with nothing but studies and deportment. I have been so bored…and I wanted desperately to see London.”

  His expression softened as he watched her, yet his eyes were still intense. Slowly his gaze moved from her eyes, down to her mouth. Her pulse skittered as his gaze moved lower…down her neck…over the swell of her breasts.

  Her throat grew tight as he continued to stare—and her body responded to that stare. Her nipples grew tight under the velvet bodice of the riding habit, sending a pulsing need to the very core of her. She pressed her hands against her stomach, afraid of her body’s reaction to his hot stare. “I meant no harm.”

  “So you decided to leave here without telling another soul where you planned to go?” He slowly lifted his eyes to where they were once again level with hers.

  She could not think. Her mind raced, wondering if she had only imagined the way he had looked at her mouth and breasts just seconds before. No, she had not imagined it. Her body had reacted to that stare, and still it betrayed her, her nipples chaffing against the soft material of her bodice. She felt the need to run from him, and away from her wicked thoughts.

  “Need I remind you, Miss Whitman, that you have only just arrived. There are ruffians about, particularly in London, who would just love to get their hands on you. This is not a fishing village.” He stood, his height overpowering her, making her feel small and exceedingly feminine. He took a step toward her, not taking his eyes off her. “I am certain that word is already spreading throughout the city that I have no control over my ward.”

  “Is that why you worry?”

  He took another step toward her, and stopped. He crossed his arms over his impressive chest. “Pardon me?”

  “Were you worried about me…or about what people would say about you?”

  The surprise showed on his face, and for a moment he merely stared at her. Then there it was, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his full lips.

  “Both, actually. Just promise me you will never venture into London again. Is that understood?”

  She nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

  He took a deep breath and released it. “Had I known you had a liking for horseflesh, I would have included riding lessons in your schedule.”

  She shifted on her feet, relieved that his anger had fled. “I would very much enjoy lessons, my lord.”

  He nodded. “Please, call me Rochford. “

  Arlie smiled genuinely. “Very well. Yes, I would enjoy lessons, Rochford.” The name sounded awkward to her ears, but he smiled.

  “If you wish to leave the premises again, I suggest you tell me first. I will see you have a proper chaperone. “ He lifted his chin a notch. “I hope I’ve made myself clear.”

  “Quite, my lord. Er, Rochford.”

  He grinned, the gesture making him seem boyish. Gone was the intense man of a few minutes ago. Now he seemed…approachable. He looked past her shoulder to the door. “Well, I suppose you should get some rest before dinner.”

  Arlie wanted to spend more time with him. She felt they had made immense progress today, and the last thing she wanted to do was sit in her room until dinner and wait for the
maid to come and get her. No, she wanted to learn all about her guardian. She wanted to know about his past, what he did all day when he left the manor, who his parents were, and why he was still not married…

  Their eyes held for a long moment before she turned and walked out of the room.

  * * * * *

  Dominic was not at all surprised when Langley made an appearance the following morning, conveniently right when breakfast was being served.

  Putting the newspaper down, Dominic sat back in his seat and watched as Arlie and Langley conversed about the weather, gardening and horseflesh. He listened intently, surprised how much his ward knew about horses. Her knowledge and experience were obvious, as well as unexpected.

  Not that he had presumed her to be anything but bright, yet from what he knew of her background, he knew she had no formal schooling. He was fast realizing that he shouldn’t be shocked about anything she did. Not many women her age would venture into London alone, particularly when they had never been to the bustling city.

  Her intelligence delighted him. Every one of her tutors praised her work, bragging that she needed little guidance and took to her studies with a zest they had seldom seen. With her beauty and brightness, he knew he would have no trouble finding her a husband. Langley’s enthusiasm gave evidence of that. Langley had reprimanded him for not telling him about Arlie, making Dominic wonder why he had been keeping her a secret. Could it be that since she’d come into his life, he’d arrived home every night looking forward to sharing dinner with her, hearing about her day, listening to the sound of her laughter as she told him about something she had done or seen? It seemed so insane that he, a man who spent precious little time in the company of any one woman, should choose to seek out the very one who had turned his life upside down.

  “Oh, Langley…! ”

  Dominic’s brow lifted as Arlie playfully hit Langley’s arm. Her smile was devastating—big dimples and small white teeth. Worse still, Langley, who never backed down from a woman’s advances, pounced. He took Arlie’s hand in his own and brought it to his lips, looking very much like the rakehell he was known to be.

  Dominic’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Could it be that his ward already fancied the charming viscount? The very thought was disquieting to say the least. Before he could stop himself, he cleared his throat.

  Langley dropped Arlie’s hand and turned to Dominic with a sheepish smile.

  “Did you say you had an early meeting this morning, Langley?” Dominic prompted. “If you don’t leave soon, I fear you’ll be late.”

  Langley kept his features carefully schooled as he stood. “Indeed, I shall, Dom. Thank you kindly for reminding me,” he said, blandly.

  “My pleasure,” Dominic replied, watching as Langley took one last moment to charm Arlie, his lips mere inches from her ear. Arlie’s blonde hair stirred from his breath. Dominic clenched his fists, surprised how very irritated he had become with the man he thought of as a brother.

  A confirmed bachelor until the last year, Langley had just asked for a woman’s hand in marriage. A woman he had known for only two months, and who brought to the marriage enough money to subsidize his way of life—which went well beyond extravagant at times.

  “Please tell your lovely fiancée hello for me.” Dominic could not help adding the last as Langley headed for the door.

  Langley tripped and Dominic winked as his friend, looking a tad irritated, shut the door behind him.

  “My lord, I would like to say something,” Arlie said, bringing him out of his unpleasant thoughts.

  Intrigued, Dominic sat forward in his chair, trying to keep his thoughts pure and his gaze focused on his ward’s face…a difficult feat when the dress she wore emphasized a great deal of her feminine charms.

  “I apologize for yesterday. I did not think of the consequences. I know I caused you distress, not to mention embarrassment for going into London without a chaperone.” She reached across the table and put a hand over one of his. Much to his surprise, his heart gave a jolt. Her small hand, so tiny compared to his own, pressed down on his, her fingers moving in a circular motion. “ I scarcely slept last night knowing all I put you through. I want you to know I would never knowingly hurt you. I just—”

  “It’s all right,” he replied, surprised as the hair on his arms stood on end. How could he be so aroused by such a simple touch? The touch of his ward—a loyal, devoted woman who he wanted in his bed. He shook his head of the wicked thought. He could not look at her in such a depraved way.

  She appeared skeptical of his sincerity. “Are you certain you are not angry with me?”

  To his amazement, her fingers moved along his in an up and down motion, as though she sought to comfort him. The woman could not possibly know what she did to his senses. His cock throbbed with need, and he resisted the urge to pull away from her touch, knowing it would appear ridiculous.

  For a moment he forgot what she said. Yet her hopeful expression prompted him to respond. “I know you will never leave this house again, without first telling me where you are going.”

  “Indeed, I will not. Thank you, my lord, for your understanding.” She stood, her hand leaving his for a moment, only to be replaced by her lips.

  The breath caught in his throat. The sight of her lips against his hand sent waves of desire down his spine, straight to his rigid cock. He stared at the pale curls on her head, then into the cleavage that nearly spilled out onto the table. Grateful for the table that hid his obvious erection, Dominic forced a smile and breathed a sigh of relief when Arlie sat down.

  “Langley is a nice fellow.”

  The abrupt change in conversation caught him off-guard. “Yes, he is. My friend is a good man, but remember—he is flatterer. He is quite charming, but he is also to be married soon.”

  She stared at him, one brow lifted in silent question as she bit into her lower lip. Had he hit a nerve, he wondered? Had her show of affection been merely a way to learn more about Langley?

  She sighed. “His fiancée must be beautiful.”

  His fears had been confirmed—she cared for Langley already, which could be very dangerous indeed. He knew Langley’s fiancée, Rose, was no beauty, but instead of giving his ward false hope he said, “Yes, his fiancée is quite charming. Langley and Rose are well suited and will be very happy together.” He lied. Langley had no intention of giving up his mistresses.

  That was one of the many reasons Dominic chose to remain a bachelor. Marriage was far too cumbersome a lifestyle. Plus, he’d been engaged once before, and he’d learned first-hand how cruel love could be. Never again would he fall victim to a woman’s charms.

  He would play by his own rules, and never, ever, surrender his heart.

  “We will be going to the Banfield ball as well? I’ve heard it’s quite an event…five days filled with games, dancing…even hunting.”

  He stared at her, pondering her question, surprised she even knew about the ball. Knowing Langley, he had probably planted the seed in her mind. Already he could see the hot stares the men would send Arlie’s way. He burned with jealousy.

  And now what choice did he have but to take her? She had told him just yesterday that she had been bored.

  She leaned across the table and grabbed his hand again. She squeezed it within her own, then proceeded to slide her fingers through his. He looked from their joined hands to her wishful expression. He had no choice but to agree. Whether or not he liked it, he would be introducing her to society. “Yes, we will go.”

  She squealed joyously and rounded the table. A moment later she stood behind him, her arms around his neck, her face beside his, her lips at his ear. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you for your kindness.” The words stirred his hair, and sent a ripple of awareness through him. Sweet Jesus he wanted her!

  Dominic closed his eyes, inhaling her soft scent. Her full breasts pressed against his back, making him think of things he had no right to. One of her hands drifted from his chest, down toward his stoma
ch, splaying there as she hugged him tight.

  Her fingers were mere inches from his cock. If they ventured even an inch further, they would come in contact. He put his hand over the one on his stomach and pressed it tight to him, not wanting it to drift lower. He would be horrified if she discovered the battle that raged within his body. He was astonished she did not see the enormous bulge in his breeches.

  He pat her hand. “You’re very welcome, Arlie. Now, you should get to bed.”

  “I will not disappoint you,” she whispered, her lips grazing his ear.

  He began to tremble.

  She pressed a kiss against his neck. “Good night, my lord.”

  Chapter Three

  Lights shone brightly in the night sky as the sleek black carriage with the Rochford family crest emblazoned on its doors approached the home of the Duke and Duchess of Banfield. Awash with multicolored lights, the large mansion appeared even more enormous and imposing.

  Arlie glanced nervously at her guardian. Rochford looked gorgeous in a black suit that fit him like a second skin. The dark material spread across his broad shoulders and his breeches fit perfectly, molding to narrow hips and strong, muscular thighs. Of all the men she knew, he was by far the most attractive and desirable.

  She mentally shook herself. She could not, under any circumstances, fall in love with her guardian. Particularly a guardian who wanted her married off immediately.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked, holding out the silver flask he’d been taking sips from since they’d left Rochford Manor.

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  Arlie tried to convince herself that her feelings for Rochford were simply misplaced adulation for a man who had taken her in when she had no one. A man who had given her the finer things she’d never had. But was that really it? Was she simply grateful? Would she feel this way with any other man?

  He had a mistress. There was no way she could compete with a woman like that.

  Memories of a few nights before burned in her mind. Arlie had been in her room reading, when she’d glanced out the window. There stood Dominic, his arms braced on the iron railing, staring out at the night sky, like a hero out of one her many books. Arlie had touched the cold window, wishing she could touch his body. How magnificent he was—all hard muscle beneath dark, olive skin. Broad shoulders, well defined chest, rippled stomach. A movement behind him caught Arlie’s eye, and a moment later a redhead walked out on the balcony. Her smile was sultry and seductive as her arms encircled Rochford’s waist.