Secrets to a Gentleman's Heart (Uncle Charlie's Angels Book 1) Page 16

  With a small hop, she sat on the edge of the desk. Slowly, she drew the hem of her skirts up her legs, revealing defined, shapely ankles and affording him a tantalizing peek of her stockings-clad calves.

  His heart rammed against his ribs. She held him spellbound. He remembered how glorious her body was beneath the layers of muslin, and his fingers itched to touch her, to explore her silky skin at leisure.

  When the ruffle of her petticoat slipped over her knees and uncovered an inch of bare thigh above her stockings, the rushing whoosh of his breath filled his ears. He held his arms stiffly at his sides and willed himself to resist.

  “Is something wrong, Xavier? Don’t you want to t-touch me?” The slight quiver to her voice was the only sign of nerves she’d shown, and it snapped him from his trance.

  “I do. I want you desperately.” He stalked toward her, stopping with barely a sliver of space between them. Her breath caught with a small hitch, and she gazed up at him with wide eyes. “I hear the sensual smokiness of your voice as I lie in bed at night. Your scent and the sensation of your fingers in my hair are etched into my memory. I crave you, Regina.”

  A smoldering fire flickered in her amber green eyes. The tip of her tongue swept over her lips, wetting them.

  He swallowed a groan and yanked her skirts to cover her legs. Distrustful of his resolve, he placed several steps between them.

  She huffed. “What are you doing?”

  He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the only spot on the wall that wasn’t covered with artifacts. “Once will never be enough for me. That is what you are offering, is it not? One moment of pleasure to prove I am the scoundrel you believe me to be.”

  “You are wrong. I wanted evidence to the contrary, and you provided it. Your appearance at Wedmore House was not the result of accepting a challenge.”

  He cursed under his breath.

  She marched to where he stood and squared off with him, crossing her arms to mirror him. “You have lied to me from the start. I want to offer you another chance to tell me the truth.”

  He drew back in surprise and dropped his arms at his sides. “Why would you give me another chance?”

  “My aunt expects us to marry, and I cannot pledge fidelity to a man I don’t know or trust. If you are honest, I won’t cry off. I will become your wife, and when you return to New Orleans, we will part ways.”

  He winced. This conversation wasn’t likely to go well. “Will you sit with me?”

  Her eyebrows slowly rose on her forehead when he held his hand out to her.

  “Please, I have a lot to explain. It would be more comfortable to sit.”

  She warily placed her hand in his and accompanied him to a settee wedged between the table that held the bowl of old coins and gladiator helmet, and a tall woodcarving of an angry elephant.

  Once Regina had settled her skirts, Xavier sat. It was time to tell her everything. She deserved that much from him, especially when she wouldn’t be happy at the conclusion of their conversation.

  “I didn’t come to Wedmore House to steal your virtue. I was sent to find a map, although my true aim was to take a piece of jewelry to pay for my passage home.”

  A crease appeared between her brows, and he rushed on with his story, telling her everything that had happened to him in the past two years. Being nabbed leaving the Den of Iniquity. The interrogations and accusations that followed.

  “You were accused of being a spy?” She laughed. “That is ridiculous. You couldn’t sneak into Wedmore House without being thwarted by a small dog.”

  “Eh... Yes, well...” Heat crept into his face. “Farrin drew the same conclusion eventually. That I wasn’t a spy. Not that I was inept.”

  She shrugged as if to say maybe. “After the Home Office took you into custody and determined you were innocent of the charges, why didn’t they release you?”

  “I don’t believe Farrin is with the Home Office. I haven’t been able to determine much about his group except he appears to be the leader. He is also for hire, which brings us to the map. He said he was hired to retrieve it. I intend to use the map as leverage to learn who wants it and who is responsible for my incarceration.”

  “And he is using you to get it.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Did he order you to form an attachment with me so you could access the map?”

  “God, no! He threatened to send in another man, and I couldn’t allow it. I’ve had experience with Farrin’s henchmen. They are more like beasts than humans.”

  She sniffed indignantly. “I am capable of defending myself and my family.”

  “Not against these men. They do not fight fair.” He swiveled toward her on the settee, praying she could recognize his sincerity. “I didn’t lie about returning home when I left Wedmore House. Farrin and his men found me before I could make my way to the docks. I didn’t know Serafine had moved to London and married. Farrin threatened my sister and her family. He has no qualms about hurting you or your family either.”

  “But now that I know there is danger—”

  “You underestimate the blackguard, and I won’t allow any harm to come to any of you. You cannot fight these men and defeat them.”

  Her shoulders sank on a sigh. “Perhaps you are correct. Sophia and Evangeline know some Wing Chun, but not enough. And Aunt Beatrice is too vulnerable. It seems our best defense will be to find what he wants and get it out of Wedmore House. What type of map are we looking for?”

  “Farrin wouldn’t say, and I chose not to debate the reason that knowledge would be helpful. The man is easily provoked, so I didn’t press the issue. Could it be something in your uncle’s collection of antiquities?”

  “Evangeline is better acquainted with Uncle Charles’s finds, but an old map would require special care.”

  “Does your uncle keep all of his treasures at Wedmore House? Could he have hidden some away and drawn a map to recall the location?”

  “It seems like a stretch. Uncle Charles wouldn’t need a map unless he buried his finds, and that goes against the grain with antiquarians. My sister might have some ideas. There would be no need to proceed with the wedding once we turned over the map.”

  His gut clenched. He didn’t want to let her go. When he was with Regina, his heart was lighter and heavy with fullness at the same time. She made him long for things he never had before, like setting down roots and creating a family with her.

  She skimmed her hand up the back of her neck, squeezing different spots along the way. “We should find Evangeline and Sophia and begin looking.”

  He scooted closer and took over rubbing away the tight knots he discovered just below her hairline. “I’m sorry for surprising you last night,” he said. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No. Sometimes my neck bothers me for no reason.”

  By his observation, she had many reasons. Figuratively, she tried to carry too much on her shoulders, and the amount of responsibilities she assumed weighed a lot. She closed her eyes and leaned toward him to rest her head on his shoulder, allowing him better access.

  Her nearness ignited a fire in his lower belly, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to embrace her. His arm slid around her waist, and he continued to softly knead her neck.

  “I don’t expect your forgiveness, Regina, but I will beg for it. For lying to you. For misleading your aunt about our relationship. For every mistake that I’ve made or will make in the future. If you never believe anything I say again, please trust that my admiration for you is true.”

  He continued to work the tightness from her muscles, and she released a moaning sigh. “Perhaps soon we can put the past behind us and become friends,” she said.

  Placing a kiss against her hair, he breathed in the spicy citrus scent of her soap. He savored this moment of peace, knowing what he was about to say would likely mean losing the privilege of holding her like this. “There is something more I should tell you.”

  She eased back to eye him warily.

  “I
won’t allow you to cry off,” he said.

  She sat up straighter. “I beg your pardon?” She bit off each word.

  “I can guarantee your safety as your husband.”

  “No.” She shook her head and tried to bolt from the settee, but he snagged her around the waist and made her sit again. “Consider this fair warning, Xavier. If you don’t release me, you will regret it.”

  If she wanted to break free, she could have done it already. He wasn’t holding her in place, and she had the skills to incapacitate him for a moment.

  “Listen to reason,” he said. “Farrin might have said he wants the map, but there could be more. I can’t protect you if we are not together, and I care too much for you to see you harmed.”

  She scoffed. “I don’t need a man’s protection. I can save myself, thank you very much.”

  “We will agree to disagree. And as your husband, if I determine it is safest for you and your family to come to New Orleans with me, I will hear no arguments.”

  She lifted her chin in challenge. “How do you think you will stop me from crying off, Mr. Vistoire?”

  He buried his fingers in her hair and tousled it.

  She protested, jerking away. “Have you lost your senses?”

  He reached for her again, and she smacked his hand.

  “Stop that! How do you like having your hair mussed?” She dove forward and drove her hands through his curls. He simply smiled and let her do her best. She plopped back on her side of the settee and scowled. “Why are you smiling?”

  He untied a decorative bow on the bodice of her gown. It accomplished nothing, besides making her appearance untidy and riling her temper even more.

  “You scoundrel!” With her mouth set in a hard line, she grabbed his cravat and wrestled the knot free. When she was done, it hung loose around his neck. “There,” she said with a satisfied nod. “I’ve bested you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so, Miss Darlington?” He snatched the end of the sash around her waist and pulled.

  Sparks shot from her eyes. “You incorrigible beast.” She attacked the top fastenings of his waistcoat and drew back. Apparently thinking she could do better, she unfastened the rest and pushed the waistcoat and jacket off his shoulders.

  She sat back, her hands still gripping his clothes. Her amber green eyes were nearly black, and they were both breathing hard. A wild hunger welled inside of him.

  “Regina.”

  He didn’t know who moved first, but their mouths collided.

  Twenty

  Regina twined her arms around Xavier’s neck and sagged against his hard chest. He groaned deep in his throat, hugging her tightly, his arms like iron bands. Every part of her front molded to him—his hard muscles different from her own body.

  His mouth possessed hers, his tongue sliding between her lips when she sighed. He tasted of mint and his kiss was deliciously hot. When he withdrew, she tentatively flicked her tongue into his mouth, testing the boundaries. He angled his head to allow her better access and splayed his hands on her back.

  Before she was even close to feeling satisfied, he pulled away. She barely refrained from pulling him back.

  “Regina,” he murmured. Her name sounded more glamorous when he spoke it. “I didn’t intend to compromise you in reality. I only wanted to make it appear that way.”

  His confession should have infuriated her, but she ached to kiss him again. She slid her hand to his chest and detected the violent throbbing of his heart. “Then make the trouble I’ve gotten myself into worth it.”

  Xavier murmured something in French—something similar to a prayer.

  He caught the back of her head and covered her mouth with his. His fingers slid into her hair, and a pin pinged against the table. He tugged her hair, not enough to hurt but her scalp tingled, and he held her an inch away. When she tried to kiss him, he gave a gentle jerk to her hair to keep her in place. Her breath quickened. They sat there, embracing, exchanging a breath. Several rapid pulses between her legs caused her to whimper softly. He was in control of her body, her pleasure. For as long as she could remember, she’d fought to keep control in every situation. But now, in this moment, she chose faith over fear.

  He flashed a wicked smile. “What should I do with you, goddess? You have learned my secrets. Perhaps now it is time for me to discover yours.”

  Her heart pounded as if she’d been practicing her exercises, and she couldn’t catch her breath. She had no secrets to uncover, but she didn’t mind him trying. “I heard the French method is very effective for loosening one’s lips.”

  He laughed and released her hair, brushing the back of his fingers across her cheek before touching his lips tenderly to hers.

  “Are you sure you wish for me to use the most powerful means available to me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  His fingertips skimmed her waist as he leaned to place his mouth to her ear. “I think you like trouble.” His breath singed her skin.

  She smiled. If she’d known trouble was this exciting, she might have gotten into it more often.

  He slid his hands along the curves of her sides until he reached her breasts to cup them. “Tell me where you like to be touched.”

  His thumbs pressed against her nipples through her corset and drew slow circles. She sucked in a breath, shocked by the unfamiliar powerful currents traveling to her core.

  “I don’t know.” She had touched herself a couple of times, but she would be mortified to speak of it.

  He grasped the tie to her apron front gown and yanked. He had it loose in seconds and peeled away the fabric to bare her undergarments. “Tell me where you like to be touched, or I will be forced to become more persuasive.”

  Bending his head, he kissed the plumped flesh rising from her corset.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “I don’t know.”

  He eased her back against the settee cushion and she sank into it, grateful for the support since her bones seemed to be dissolving with each stroke of his fingers across her nipples. His mouth found her neck, and he licked a tantalizingly slow path to the sensitive place behind her ear. She moaned as a wave of pleasure engulfed her.

  “This is your final warning, Miss Darlington. Tell me the secrets to pleasuring you or prepare to accept the consequences.”

  His teasing tone made her smile.

  “Never,” she said.

  “You are a challenge, ma chérie.”

  Flutters filled her stomach as he removed his waistcoat and jacket and knelt on the carpet before her. He grasped the hem of her skirts with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I like trouble, but I love a challenge even more.”

  He slid his hands beneath her skirts, inching them up her thighs until he found the ties to her drawers. Regina’s heart beat with a driving rhythm. The ache between her legs intensified. He helped her shimmy her drawers over her hips and drew them down her legs then tossed them over his shoulder.

  Caressing just above her knee, he locked gazes with her.

  “Magnifique,” he murmured as his fingers moved to her inner thigh and glided up her leg in the most excruciatingly unhurried and teasing manner. “Your skin is as soft as the most luxurious silk.”

  Her face warmed at his extravagant praise. As he lifted her skirts higher and her legs were bared, she squirmed with anticipation. His fingers grazed her curls and she gasped. “There.”

  A satisfied smile eased across his handsome face. “Here, lover?” He stroked her again.

  “Yes.”

  He rewarded her honesty with another exquisite caress. She melted into the settee, closing her eyes on a sigh and surrendering to the sensual feel of his skin on hers. Grasping her hips, he pulled her to the edge of the settee and spread her thighs. Her eyes flew open. Her thoughts of protest vanished into oblivion with the first sweep of his tongue over her flesh. A moan slipped past her lips. Each lick carried her deeper into a world she’d never known existed, and never wanted to leave.


  Xavier cradled her bottom as he continued to make love to her with his mouth, circling an especially pleasurable spot at the apex of her labia and driving her toward something she wanted with great desperation. Something she couldn’t name or had ever experienced.

  Every muscle quivered with expectation. Her fingers curled into fists. Her breathing ceased, and for a split second, she teetered on the peak. Then she was crying out as wave after satisfying wave rushed over her, and through her, until she was spent. She collapsed against the settee, her legs trembling. Xavier’s hand splayed across her bare bottom, holding her as she recovered. He placed a lingering kiss on the fleshiest part of her thigh, watching her with nearly black eyes.

  When her breathing began to even out, he released her, allowing her skirts to drop. He stood and kissed her softly before retrieving her drawers to help set her back to rights.

  She brushed a loving hand over his dark hair as he knelt at her feet once more. “I could grow accustomed to having you on your knees,” she teased.

  He glanced up with a roguish grin. “Maybe next time you will kneel for me.”

  A fiery blush swept over her at the suggestion, but she mumbled, “Maybe.”

  “I should have done this the first time I was on my knees.” He cupped her hand between his and all traces of teasing fled. Her eyes widened when she realized he intended to propose like a true suitor. He looked up with such earnestness, her heart skipped. “Miss Darlington, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  To others, his proposal might sound silly at this point, but she appreciated the chance to have a say. “Yes, I will marry you.”

  Scratching sounded at the door, and Cupid’s sharp bark echoed in the corridor.

  “Aunt Beatrice must be awake,” she said. Xavier pulled her to her feet, and she smoothed her hands over her wrinkled skirts. “I should slip upstairs to see to my hair before Auntie is dressed and comes down for breakfast. Sophia is to send for Lord Margrave as soon as we vacate the study.”

  Xavier captured her wrist before she could move toward the door and pulled her back to him for a kiss. “Regina, I don’t want to quarrel with you, but I meant what I said about New Orleans. If that is the safest place for you and your family, I will insist upon everyone coming with me. Even Cupid.”